Not Without You
by BelieveItOrNot
Summary: This is the sequel to The Path We Chose. It does not stand alone. The continuation of Edward and Bella's story. Self-aware teens forced to grow up quickly. AH,AU Canon couples, Slight OOC Renee very OOC Rated M for language and lemonadey sexual content
1. Chapter 1

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight (in case you didn't know)

**A/N:** Welcome to:_** Not Without You**_, the sequel to **_The Path We Chose_**. If you're here it means you've probably read_ **The Path We Chose**_ and you want more, so thanks for coming back!

If you haven't read _The Path We Chose_, you must read it first or this will not make sense. This is not a stand alone story.

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 1: Rain

It was the last week of July and it was raining. The rain was coming down hard and fast and it was the kind of rain that's loud and gets pelted into your face by the wind, and I was late. I was running late for my six month prenatal appointment. I pulled my hood tighter around my face and splashed through puddles to my truck. Edward was already working at the hospital--the warm, dry, hospital. So he was planning on meeting me there. Before I'd left the house, I'd thought about calling him, but I was only five minutes behind at this point and calling him, would have just made me later. I trucked through the pouring rain, my windshield wipers furiously attacking the splashing water, and still, they weren't quick enough.

I cursed as I hit the first red light. I knew that once you hit one red light in this town, you hit them all. I checked my watch. Even if I drove slowly and was stopped by every light along the way, I would still only be ten minutes late. But life, or God, or fate, had other plans.

I was thinking about Arizona--how in Arizona I would be hot right now, sweating, and wishing for rain. My thoughts were on heat-stroke-inducing Phoenix when my truck started to stall. It putt-putt-putted and then shut itself off. I turned the key in the ignition but all I heard was clicking. I pumped the gas a few times, but still nothing. I sat back in my seat for a minute and stared at the streaks of water ahead of me, now thinking about the fact that I still hadn't replaced my cell phone. I was about two miles from the market where I could use the payphone, but I had no choice. I zipped up my jacket, stepped into the puddled street and walked, pregnant, in the rain, with my head down.

Nearly four minutes into my walk, the rain began to slow enough so I could look ahead and not down at my feet. And once the rain slowed to a sprinkle, there was honking behind me. I tried to ignore it--didn't turn around, but then I heard his voice calling my name.

"Mike?"

"Hey, do you need a ride?"

He pulled over, got out of his car and opened the door for me. I frowned at him. "My truck broke down."

"Yeah, I saw it back there. I'll take you to Arnie's." It was actually, _Arnold's Auto Works_, but since this was Forks, everyone already knew Arnie, the old guy with the freckled bald head, long white beard and dirty hands, so Arnie's was what the place was called.

"You're all wet," Mike said, as he pulled away from the curb.

"It was raining," I said, because apparently when you're in the middle of an uncomfortable silence with someone you barely like, but who's helping you out, pointing out the obvious is the only way to go. "Do you have a phone I can borrow?"

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and I called Edward. He didn't answer with a, "hello," he answered with, "Why are you calling me?"

"Edward," I said.

"Bella? Where are you? What are you doing on Mike's phone?"

I told him about my truck, Mike and Arnie's. "Do you want Mike to take me to the hospital?"

"No, I'll come for you. I just have to finish up something here and then I'll reschedule your appointment."

At Arnie's I waited for his tow-truck driver to pick up my truck and Mike insisted on waiting with me, so we sat in the office together next to the old morning coffee and the dusty water cooler.

"So, you're, uh, really having a baby, huh?"

"Seems so."

He gave me a nervous laugh. "Just think, if we had gotten together when we had the chance you'd be pregnant with my baby right now."

Okay, that got my attention. I looked over at him. "What do you mean, _when we had the chance_?"

"You know, last year when I asked you to homecoming. If it weren't for your fear of dances we would have definitely hooked up."

"Mike. Seriously? People really do live in delusions in this world."

"What?"

"Never mind. Thanks for helping me out, anyway."

"Anytime." He pointed at my stomach. "Do you have a name picked out?"

I shook my head at him wide-eyed. We hadn't picked out a name. I hadn't even thought about it. Edward and I had been calling the baby, "baby". Certainly that wouldn't be the name. Leave it to Mike to be the one to make me realize that my baby actually would need a name. I didn't have much time to think about it, though because Arnie came back, scratching his beard, to inform me that my truck needed a new alternator and some break work and it would cost me $1200.00.

"Whoa," Mike said and I took a deep breath.

"Mike, I appreciate your help, but you don't have to wait. Edward will be here any minute. I know you have other things to do."

"I don't mind, Bella."

I sighed and my neck was sweating. "Well, if you really want to wait, can you wait outside for a minute?"

I was so afraid he would ask me why, and I didn't want to explain to him that I needed privacy to try and beg Arnie to bring the price down for me. Thankfully, Mike obliged and left me there staring at Arnie.

"Does it really _need_ all that work? Because I can't afford that."

"Sugar, if you want to be safe and avoid breakdowns, then yes, the repairs are necessary, and I've discounted the cost of labor for you already."

I wondered just what kind of "breakdown" I would be avoiding if I coughed up $1200.00.

Late for my appointment, truck stalling, walking through the rain only to be picked up by Mike after the rain had stopped--none of that was as difficult as this. Had I been living with my father, he would have paid to fix my truck, but since I no longer lived with him, by choice, I had no right to even ask him to pay. There was no way in hell I was going to ask Carlisle and Esme to break out their credit cards for me. And I didn't have enough money saved up yet to cover the cost. Which way do you go in this situation? Swallow your pride and ask for monetary help, or impose on others for rides and live a truckless life until you can afford to fix it? Staring and staring at Arnie in his office, I couldn't come to a decision. I needed Emmett for this kind of dilemma. But if I went to him, he'd probably think I was hinting for him to help me pay and that would be humiliating.

"Do you accept payment in installments?" I finally asked after the sound of his throat-clearing broke through my silence.

"Here's what I can do for you. It will take eight to ten days to get your parts anyway, so you will have some time before we're finished working on it. Once it's ready to go, you can pay 50% then and 50% after one month."

I did the only thing I could do at that point; I shook his grease-stained hand and gave him the go-ahead to get started on my truck. Then I walked out of the office because it was too hot in there and I wanted rain on my face again. It wasn't raining anything but Mike outside.

"All finished?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Do you want me to drive you to--"

Edward pulled up and parked by the curb. "Hey," he said as he approached, "sorry. Sorry." He kissed me. "Thanks Mike, really." He shook Mike's hand and turned back to me as if Mike would just leave. "It took forever to get the appointment changed. The receptionist kept going on and on about how she knew you were having a girl by the way your face glowed and how she was never wrong about these things. I heard all about her niece who she also happened to predict would be a girl. Oh man, if our kid is anything like her niece sounds, we are going to need real therapy." He laughed. "Your face does glow. She's right about that." He kissed me again.

"You're having a girl?" Mike said, reminding us he was still there.

"No!" I said. "I mean…we don't know for sure. We don't know the sex. Please don't say anything at all about that, Mike. You know how the people of Forks like to spread news."

He squinted at me like he wasn't quite sure what I meant, so I clarified. "You know, Jessica, Lauren, rumors?"

"Oh. I don't talk to Jessica anymore. Ever since she pushed you, nobody really talks to her. Except for Lauren."

It was my turn to frown in confusion. "Really?" I looked at Edward.

"What? You know I never did talk to her unless I had to."

"But you never told me that _nobody_ talks to her."

"I don't notice that kind of stuff, Bella. I go to school, get my grade, get back to you. That's it."

"Hey, I didn't mean to start an argument," Mike said holding up his hands.

I scoffed. "We're not arguing," I looked directly into his blue eyes. "We _never_ argue." God. If we could get out of this without Mike revving the rumor engine it would be a miracle.

Edward laughed, put his arm around me and kissed the side of my head. "What's up with your truck?"

I told him what the problem was but not how much it would cost. It turns out I didn't have to offer that minor detail because Mike did. This guy was going to be lucky to get out of this without _me _pushing _him_. "Mike. I really do appreciate you helping me out. Not many people would have stopped. It was actually really heroic of you, but this part, this is between Edward and me, you know? Maybe we'll see you again, soon."

"Okay, Bella. No problem. It was good seeing you." He started to lean in for a hug but I took a step back and he looked at Edward and must have thought better of it. Then he finally turned around and headed for his car.

"$1200.00?"

I took Edward's hand and guided him toward his car. "It's okay. I worked it out so I could pay part of it now and the rest later."

"Let me pay for some of it."

"It's not your truck, Edward. It's my responsibility and I've taken care of it." I opened his door for him.

"No, it's not my truck, but you're my girl. Let me help."

"Nope." I touched his nose as if that would put an end to the conversation. "You already help enough by being here and looking like that." I put my hand in his hair and messed it up even more. "Perfect." Then I kissed him and when I felt his hands grab my waist and pull me closer, I knew that was the _actual_ end of the conversation.

* * *

Back at the Cullens' I slipped my fingers through Edward's, led him up the stairs to his room, folded my jacket over his desk chair, and sat on his bed. "Let's talk."

"You bring me up here with your touch and you sit on my bed looking like that and you expect me to just talk?" His finger tugged at the neckline of my shirt.

"Yes." I patted the spot next to me and he sat down, leaned over and kissed my neck.

"You talk, I'll enjoy." I closed my eyes and enjoyed, too, until I realized it was impossible for me to make any sort of sense while enjoying Edward's kisses as they traveled over my neck and down my chest and up again and to my ear and along my jaw and the side of my lips. I couldn't talk. I could barely breathe.

"Edward…God…what you do to me."

"What you do to me," he said against my collarbone. "I can't stop, Bella."

"Then don't."

"I won't." His lips were teasing my neck again and his hand was under my shirt and I was pulling his shirt off him when we both stopped and jumped away from each other because of the knock at his door. Both of us were smoothing our clothing and our hormones as he stepped toward his door. Before opening it he looked at me. "Okay?"

I nodded. He opened the door and it was Alice. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I'd expected Esme.

"What's going on here?" she asked, pushing past Edward. "You two look like a Emmett after he loses a mind-wrestle."

"Nothing," we both said at the same time, although mine was quick and his was slow, and nonchalant, and actually believable.

"I think I interrupted something."

"No, you didn't," I said, even though I wanted to say, _Yes you did, can you give us a few minutes? Wait in the hall, or something?_

"I need to talk to you, Bella. Edward, have you spoken to Jasper lately?"

"Not for a few days, why?"

"Did he tell you about his parents?"

"What about his parents?"

"Well," she said, sitting on the bed next to me where Edward used to be. I looked past her at Edward for a second because I couldn't help it. Edward was looking at me, too, which made it hard for me to tear my eyes away and focus on Alice. My hand automatically came to my neck where his lips had last touched me. He gave me a half-smile. "His parents' divorce is being finalized and they're both moving. His mom is moving back to Texas and his dad is moving to Seattle. They're making him decide who he's going to live with."

"He's moving?" I asked.

"He better not move. " She threw herself back on Edward's bed. " He's trying to figure out a way to stay in Forks--get an apartment or something."

"I'll go talk to him," Edward said.

"Right now?" I asked.

"Yeah." He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door and whispered, "I'll kiss you right here again the second I get back." He kissed me at the bottom of my neck, swept his tongue over my skin there.

"But I wanted to talk to you, remember? Before you distracted me?"

"Is it important? Is something wrong?"

"No. Nothing's wrong. It can wait."

"We'll talk later. I promise." He gave me one last kiss before turning to leave but then he spun around. "Wait, here, this is yours." He handed me his phone.

"No it's not."

"Yes it is. Until you get a new one. I can't believe I waited until something happened before I gave this to you. Bella, keep it and don't argue with me." He left before I could say anything.

"What happened to you?" Alice asked sitting up.

"Oh, just my truck and the rain. Forget it." I sat next to her on the bed and put an arm around her shoulder. "Jasper might get his own place? How will he afford it?"

"He's been volunteering over at Birch Gardens, you know, that assisted living home? They offered him a job in the kitchen. He's excited about Saturday ice cream socials," she laughed. "He says he's helped serve ice cream before and it makes all the elderly folks smile and chat, and sometimes their families and grandchildren join them." Her eyes landed on the CD shelf, and just as I was about to ask her if she wanted me to play one, she said, "But I don't know if he can save up enough money in time for a down payment. He better not move. I'll give him money from my savings if I have to."

"Jasper won't leave Forks. Being far away from you would make him miserable. How long does he have? When do his parents plan on moving?"

"They'll both be out before school starts. His mom's already on her way out." She rested her head against mine. "So, you have a phone now."

I laughed at her attempt at changing the subject, but I didn't bring up Jasper again. "Are you hungry?"

"No…but, are you?" She looked at me. "You are."

She pinched my arm and motioned for me to follow her downstairs where she insisted I sit at the kitchen table while she helped Esme prepare dinner. I didn't sit for long. I got up to set the table. The three of us ate together chatting about nothing, really, avoiding any serious subjects when I realized how comfortable I felt. Not once did I feel like an imposition having one of my friends stay for dinner with my boyfriend's mother without even asking permission. And not once did Esme give me any implication that I needed her permission. Was the Cullens' house actually beginning to feel like home?

* * *

I was already asleep by the time Edward returned from Jasper's. I knew by morning that he'd been in my room because there was a note next to my pillow that read: _I'm sorry we didn't get to talk. Come and see me when you wake up._

I smiled at the note before brushing my teeth and then going directly to Edward. He was still sleeping, so I squirmed into bed with him and pulled his arm over me. He was warm against my back and snuggled closer, pulling me tight. "When did you get here?"

"I've been here all along, Edward."

He kissed my shoulder but it was covered by my shirt so he kissed my arm right after. "No you haven't."

"How do you know?"

"Because I haven't been this comfortable all night."

I turned toward him and thanked him for the note. "Did you kiss me good night?"

"Of course."

"And I slept through it?"

"Here," he said and kissed me. I felt his tongue for just a second before he pulled away. "I dislike it when you brush your teeth before me."

"I don't mind your morning breath."

"Sure," he said and sat up but I pulled on his arm.

"Wait. I want to talk about something before anyone, or you, interrupts again."

"Is something wrong?" The back of his finger traced a line down my jaw to my chin.

"Yes. Our baby doesn't have a name."

"I guess baby will need one of those." He lay on his side again, resting his head on his hand. "Do you have something in mind?"

"I think," I sat up and looked down at him, "a name should mean something. It should be more than just something you think sounds cute, you know?"

"Don't all names have meaning? There are books about it. Should we get one?"

"No, I mean the name should have importance in our lives."

"You've thought about this."

"Only since yesterday when Mike asked me about names. It honestly hadn't crossed my mind before then."

"So, what did _Mike_ inspire?"

"Masen."

He squinted his eyes. "Masen?"

"Don't you like it? I think it's perfect. It represents your family and you and everything positive in my life."

"You sure you don't want to use one of your family names?" He took my fingers in his.

"Nope. My family's a mess. I like Masen."

"Okay, Masen's good. What if it's a girl?"

"Masen."

"Really?" He smiled.

"Really. Either way. That's the name with the meaning I want to give our baby no matter what."

"Thank you." He leaned forward and kissed my knee.

"You don't have to thank me; it was my idea. Now tell me, what went on with Jasper?"

He told me that we would be helping Jasper find an apartment he could afford. They'd already circled some studios in the paper. Then he beckoned me closer with a finger and said, "Bring me your neck. Let me finish what I started yesterday."

So I brought my neck to him because it was what he wanted and who was I to deprive him of anything?

* * *

**A/N: **I don't know why I get nervous after I post my first chapter. But look, a new story and I'm starting over at zero reviews. Please help me build it up again. :)

Feel free to tell me what you think, what you might like to see in the future, or ask any questions you may have. Thank you readers!


	2. Movement

**Stephenie Meyer Owns Twilight**

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 2: Movement

"I only have a week so one of these has to be it. I'm moving out as soon as I turn eighteen." We were in Jasper's truck, me in between Edward and Jasper. We only had two apartments left to look at that were remotely within Jasper's price range. The last three had all been in the same complex and were completely trashed out, which explained the low prices. We were not optimistic the next few would be any more promising.

Edward's hand was on my thigh because I was wearing a skirt, so my bare leg was like a magnet to him, his pinky just under the hem. This was my last regular outfit that still somewhat fit me-if you could call it an outfit. A stretch waist skirt and oversized T-shirt, that was it. Tomorrow I'd be in maternity clothes.

It was just the three of us apartment hunting, today. Alice and Rosalie had dragged Emmett to Port Angeles for school clothes shopping. I remembered how bored he was that ten minutes in the dress shop when I'd bought my non-prom dress. It made me laugh to think about it now.

"What's so funny?" Jasper asked.

"I was just thinking of Emmett shopping." There was no need for further explanation. They both laughed, too. "Why are you in such a hurry to move out? Why don't you wait until your dad moves?"

"Because I've made up my mind and I want it done with. There's no way I want to be in the middle of a move when school starts anyway."

"Makes sense," I nodded. He pulled down a narrow street. If another car had been headed our way he'd have to pull over to let it pass, or else hit it. The elms lining the street were old and massive and the houses were old and miniature in comparison. "How are you handling everything? Your mom's in Texas now, right?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. I still can't figure out what went wrong with them, but Alice is so happy I'm staying that you wouldn't even have to physically feel her emotion for it to have an effect, so I'm sure you can imagine what it's like for me to be around her."

"What's it like to be around us?" I took Edward's hand off my leg and laced my fingers with his.

"Calm. You two are calm and steady. Even if Edward constantly wants to…uh, be alone with you."

I looked at Edward who smirked at me. "Really? Right now?" He didn't answer. He looked out his window instead.

"Bella." Jasper said. "Remember that first day you sat with us at lunch?"

"Of course. The day I escaped Jessica's gossip."

"Well, let's just say, that day, he was fighting something off, just like he's doing right now."

Edward let go of my hand and held my thigh again, moving it a little higher under my skirt this time. "Jasper, man, you better stop or I'm going to be on the Emmett side of keep your distance."

"All right, man," he laughed, "but she asked. Your girlfriend asked. What's the address I'm looking for?"

The apartment manager let us into the studio and left us to look around. It was one large room, the kitchen being the only thing distinguishable because of the square of linoleum, and the cupboards and refrigerator that lined one part of the wall. There were two doors on the opposite wall. One led to a small bathroom with a sink, toilet and shower-not even a cabinet. The other door was a closet that was no bigger than the size of the door.

"There's not even stains on the carpet," I said. Next I checked where cleanliness would have mattered most to me, the bathroom. I pulled the shower door open. "And, the shower is white!"

"This is it. I'm tired of looking. I'm taking it." Jasper took two steps to the kitchen and called Alice.

I joined Edward in the empty living room and grabbed his fingers.

"Bella?" Jasper said, his hand covering his phone. "Red or pink lipstick for Alice?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"She wants my opinion."

"Again, why are you asking me?"

"Because, whatever I say is going to be the wrong answer. Rosalie is trying to talk her into pink. What does Emmett think?" Jasper asked into the phone and then I heard him laugh.

"What did he say?"

He covered the phone again. "He said to get both and let's get out of here."

"Tell her red," Edward said.

"You have an opinion on this?" I asked as Jasper said, "stick with red," into the phone.

"It's what she always wears," he shrugged.

I put my hand on his chest. "What about me? Should I wear red?"

He touched my lips. "You don't wear lipstick."

"I know, but should I? Do you ever wish I wore makeup?"

"Did you just ask me that?"

"I think so."

"Bella. I've never made that wish. As long as I've known you, you've never worn makeup. I fell in love with you. Why would I wish any different?"

"Because it might make me pretty."

"You know you're beautiful."

"But not pretty."

"You're pretty. What's the difference?"

"Some people think I'm not pretty enough for you."

He brought a hand to my face. "What people?" But he didn't let me answer. "You know how when you think my hair looks too neat, you put your fingers in and mess it up?"

I nodded, and did it for him right then.

"I feel the same way about you. If you wore makeup for anything other than some special occasion, I'd want you to wash it off. I love seeing your face." He kissed my cheek. "Your skin." He kissed my other cheek. "Your lips." He kissed my lips. "Don't cover it up." He kissed me deeper until Jasper hit his back.

"I'm glad you guys like it, too. Let's go sign the lease and hand over all my money. I'm moving next week."

* * *

Emmett was in and out with boxes faster than anyone. I sat on the front porch swing watching all of them work and sweat. It was Jasper's eighteenth birthday and we were helping him move (well, they were helping). It was all he wanted. Nobody would let me help, though. Jasper did bring me out a glass of lemonade so I sat back and sipped on that, one hand on my stomach. I was now wearing Rosalie's sister's maternity clothes. This one had brightly colored vine patterns all over it. My finger traced along the swirling vines as I wondered who would possibly choose this pattern for a dress.

Alice stopped Jasper as they crossed paths. "Happy Birthday!" She jumped up to kiss him, then he laughed and bent down for her so she didn't have to jump.

"You already said that."

"Is it still August twelfth?"

"Yes."

"Then it's still your birthday so I don't see anything wrong with me wishing you a happy one." They started kissing again so I turned away and thought about Edward's eighteenth birthday two months ago-well before Jasper started his hunt for an apartment, and well before my truck broke down in the late July rain.

Esme had given him a party without any alcohol or sleepovers. The gift he received from his parents wasn't exactly for him. It was for the baby. Carlisle had brought down Edward's old crib from the attic, set it up in my room, put a huge red bow on it, brought us all upstairs and said, "Happy Birthday, son."

We all stood around in my room staring at it in silence. I teared up a little at the sight of it. There was barely any walking space between the crib and the side of the bed, but that didn't matter. Soon my little baby would be sleeping in there next to me.

Rosalie was the first to speak. "Are you sure that's safe?"

"What?" A whole bunch of us asked.

"Older cribs, they were made differently. Some aren't safe. That's all I'm saying."

"It's safe. It's sturdy, " Carlisle said, going to it and giving it a shake to show us just how sturdy it was. "The slits are close enough together that the baby's head won't get stuck and I put it together myself, so the screws are all securely in place." He shook it again, harder, as if to show that it wouldn't just fall apart. He seemed insulted by Rosalie's comments.

"I love it," I said, running my hand along the top edge. "I love your birthday present, Edward."

"So do I," he said and we both thanked and hugged his parents.

The slight altercation between Rosalie and Carlisle was as exciting as that night got. For the rest of the night, after cake, we played a trivia game, so Emmett was happy since it was as close to mind-wrestling as anyone would allow him to get. Of course, he won, as well, which made him not only happy, but smug, too.

Later, Edward and I lay together in my bed facing the crib, Edward's arm over me, when I felt movement in my stomach. I sat up, put my hand on my stomach and felt it again. "Oh god."

"What?" Edward sat up with me and I took his hand and put it on my stomach.

"Baby moved," I laughed because it had been a feeling I'd never felt before. I waited to feel it again, holding Edward's hand against me.

"I don't feel anything."

"Shh," I shushed him as if the baby wouldn't move if there was any noise. "Just…wait."

He waited. We both did, but there was no movement. I sighed.

"Bella, if you wanted me to touch you, all you had to do was ask." His hand moved up my stomach toward my breast and his lips and tongue found mine.

"Touch me," I said against his lips, getting a deep inhale from him as his kiss grew deeper and he lifted my shirt off. He kissed my breasts above my bra as he unhooked the back.

"Did you lock the door?" he asked, leaning into me, pushing me back on the bed, still kissing.

"I don't…I don't…think so."

He pulled my panties off as he kissed me down my rounded stomach and then back up to my breasts again. "Okay," he said, making his way up my throat to my eager lips. "I'll lock it in…a minute." But that minute turned into several as it seemed we couldn't break away from our kiss or each other and I needed to feel him so I undid his pants and pushed them down with my feet until he was slithering out of them. I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him against me. He groaned and his face dropped to my shoulder, kissing the crook of my neck.

"Edward?" I barely breathed. "The door?"

"Yeah…yeah,…one minute…" And then in less than a minute he was inside of me moving against me and neither one of us remembered that a door even existed. We made love in my unsecured room on Edward's birthday while his parents were cleaning up downstairs.

"Happy Birthday," I said as he lay beside me. Since my stomach had been bigger, he was careful not to put all of his weight on me. "Happy Birthday, Edward."

"Yes, it is" He rested his head against my shoulder. "I never locked the door, did I?"

"No." He started to get up, but I held him still.

"Stay." He kissed me and pulled one side of the comforter over us.

"Just in case," he said.

"Yeah, because it would be terribly awful if someone walked in now as opposed to two minutes ago."

He laughed. "Two minutes ago, I didn't have a brain."

"Neither did I. I like when that happens." I pulled his head toward me because I wanted his lips again.

He turned over onto his back and I put my arms around his neck and rested on top of his body. His arms squeezed me close, and just then, the baby moved again.

"That was weird," he said. "I felt that on my stomach." He brought a hand between us and tickled my stomach with one finger. "Hi, baby. It's good to feel you." His hand cupped my face and he kissed me. "Turn over." I did what he said and he rested a hand on my stomach and his head on my pillow next to my shoulder. "I want to feel it again."

We both fell asleep waiting for the baby to move. We didn't wake up until there was a knock at my door. "Bella?" Esme said. "Is Edward in there?"

I looked at Edward with wide eyes. He felt over the bed for my T-shirt and handed it to me. Then he got up to put his pants on. "Yeah, I'm in here. Hang on."

"Can I come in?"

"Just…" He looked at me. I had my shirt on but I couldn't move. It didn't matter if I put on my pants. The bed was a mess, and so were we, and it was completely obvious what we were doing in here. Esme opened the door. I sat up and covered my naked legs. Her eyes darted from me to Edward who was still shirtless.

"It's late. I checked your room first, Edward. You know how your father and I feel about this."

"Mom. You know what goes on between us. What difference does it make where we sleep?"

I fell back in embarrassment and pulled the comforter over my head.

"I'm sorry, Bella, but they're not stupid. We're having a baby together."

I lifted the comforter. "Esme! We felt the baby move tonight." Yes, I was trying to change the subject. I prayed that it worked. It seemed Esme relaxed a bit with the subject change.

"That's great, Bella." She sat on the bed and held a small gift-wrapped package out to Edward. "I have something for you."

"Thanks, Mom." He took the package and loosened the bow.

"It's not from me. It's from your grandpa."

"What?" He stopped unwrapping and looked down at his mom.

"After he passed away and we were going through his things…we found this, saved in a desk labeled: Edward's eighteenth."

"He took the lid off the box and pulled out what looked like a small stack of papers and he leafed through them."

"They're savings bonds," Esme said, "mature by now."

Edward dropped to the bed. "There's…over nine thousand dollars here."

Esme's eyes were glossed with tears. "It's all for you. You use it wisely."

Mother and son shared a long embrace. Esme looked small in his arms.

"It's nearly midnight," Esme said.

"Don't worry, Mom. When it's time, I'll go to my own room. I won't like it. But I'll go." She kissed his cheek then left us alone again.

"I can't believe your grandpa did that."

He sat on the bed facing away from me, his hands holding the box of savings bonds in his lap. "It feels odd. Like he's here. Like he's still a part of my life." I crawled to him hugged him from behind and kissed the back of his shoulder.

"He'll always be a part of your life." I held up my wrist to show him the bracelet I still wore. The one he made from the stones his Grandfather had found for him. He took my hand and kissed it, then leaned forward to drop the box on top of my dresser.

"So, what do you want me to buy you?" Edward scooted us both toward the top of the bed, his back against the wall and me leaning against him.

"No, Edward, you're not buying me anything."

"I know," he said. "I won't. But I want to. If we weren't having baby I'd buy you something really nice."

My head dropped and my hands found my stomach. He lifted my chin.

"No. I didn't mean it like that. It wasn't a wish."

"I understand. It's just that…every once in a while, life hits me. It's like, here we are, living everyday, but we don't even notice life. It's just there, invisible, quiet. And then something happens to remind you just what living means. What it's all about. That's when it's suddenly not quiet. That's when it screams."

"Bella. What are you-is something bothering you?"

"No. It's nothing."

"It's something. Tell me." His fingers were still holding my chin and he pulled my lips to his. "Tell me."

What was I supposed to tell him? When he thought about what gift he would buy me if there was no baby, I thought about how I would be starting my Senior year in the Fall, selecting a college. I wouldn't have a crib in my room and I'd be laughing with my friends everyday at lunch. I couldn't tell him that. Even if he wanted me to, I couldn't.

"I-I can't."

"You can. Please, tell me."

"No. I can't. Stop asking."

"Bella. You just told me that life is screaming at you. Tell me what it is. Maybe I can help. I can't see you hurting, you know that. Tell me."

I didn't answer.

"It's about life? Is it…is it about…what you're giving up?"

Tears fell giving him my answer. He caught them on my cheek then kissed the new ones away. "Bella."

"I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for? You're allowed to cry."

"Sometimes…sometimes I'm reminded that I'm just a kid-even though I'm not one. I can't be one."

"But you want to? You miss it?"

I nodded. "Sometimes. Is that bad? Does that mean I don't love our baby right?"

"No, it's not bad. It means you're human. You love our baby, we both know that. Remember earlier when baby moved? Remember how you felt?"

I smiled.

"See? You can love baby and miss what you're giving up at the same time."

"Okay."

"Okay. I'm glad you told me."

"I didn't tell you; you guessed."

He laughed and shook his head. "Come here." He lay on his back and pulled my head to his chest, his fingers brushing my cheek. "Promise to talk to me when you feel like this."

"I promise." I wrapped an arm around him.

"Do you feel better?" He asked.

I nodded against his chest.

"Good. Because I have to go to my room soon but I'm not leaving unless you're better."

"Then I'm not better, so stay."

"I'll stay until you're asleep."

"Stay until you're asleep, too."

"Then who will carry me to my room?"

"You're already in your room."

"I am?"

"Yes, you are." I kissed his chest and closed my eyes.

"I love you, Bella."

"I love you, too."

* * *

Now, at Jasper's new second floor studio, we all sat on the carpet eating sandwiches while boxes and furniture waited for lifting in his truck. If my truck hadn't been in the shop, it would have been full, too. As it was, we'd probably be making three trips back and forth. I still hadn't decided how I was going to go about paying for it. Since there was absolutely no way I would allow the Cullens to pay for my truck, I admitted to myself, as I bit into my salami and cheese on wheat, that I had no choice but to talk to my dad. There was absolutely nothing else I could do. Like the rest of the world, I couldn't pull money out of thin air.

"Edward?"

"Yeah?" He was sitting next to me, one hand on my leg.

"I'm going to make dinner for my dad tonight."

"Do you need help? Do you want me to come?"

"No. I need to talk to him alone. I think his shift ends at 8:00 tonight so it will be a late dinner." He leaned down to kiss the side of my head. "Okay."

We were interrupted by one word from Emmett. "Seniors."

"Yup," Jasper said, "two weeks away."

"Jasper, do you ever feel like an android at school?" Emmett asked. "Like someone else is holding the remote control and your actions aren't your own?"

"No. I can honestly say I've never felt that way."

"For instance. We're seniors now because that's what they call us. But I beg to differ. I'm sure I've been a senior all along."

"Emmett," Rosalie said. "Your problem is you can't conform to anything. They have to classify us so there is some kind of order. It's not about controlling you."

"Well, I am going to have to agree with Emmett on this one," Edward said, "because right now I am not in control of my education. Someone else has hold of my remote control and I am nothing. I am just waiting it out to see what happens."

"Who?" Emmett asked.

Please don't say me, please don't say me. I closed my eyes and prayed he wouldn't say, Bella.

"Jessica." My eyes shot open. I turned to him.

"What does she have to do with your education?"

"I met with my guidance counselor yesterday. I needed copies of my file sent over for the scholarship. You remember that time I got sent home from school for _threatening_ her?"

"No!"

"Yes. It's in my file and with that against me, I'll never be granted the scholarship. It's not going to happen."

"There must be something we can do," I said, just as Emmett said, "Fuck that."

"The only thing that might help is if she retracted her accusation. If she admits what really happened, they might remove it from my file. But I can't ask her to. No way. If I asked her to, it would be like coaxing. It has to come from her."

"I'll talk to her," I said.

"No, Bella. She has never been nice to you."

"I don't care. I'm talking to her. She can be as mean as she wants. I won't let it bother me. This is for you."

"I'll go with her," Rosalie said.

"I think I have to do it alone. If you're with me it could look like we're ganging up. I'll just…I'll go to her house. I'll thank her for the apology letter and just strike up a conversation. I can do this, Edward. Let me."

"Let you? Have I ever been able to stop you from doing something you've already decided on?"

"Probably."

"I doubt it. But if she starts in on you, you just leave, okay? I don't want her stressing you out. Are you going to do that?"

"Yes, sir." Edward leaned in to kiss me and I dropped my sandwich to my lap to hold his face close to mine.

Somewhere in the distance I heard Alice say, "Jasper, they're kissing again."

"Do you want me to stop them?"

"No. I want you to kiss me."

"If you're all kissing then so are we, right Rose?"

"Nope. If you wanted to kiss me, you should have just done it. Don't kiss me in reaction to other people."

And then no one was kissing because we were all laughing...except for Emmet.

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**Reviews are appreciated!**


	3. Dependence

Stephenie Meyer Owns Twilight.

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 3: Dependence

Edward dropped me off at my dad's house, but after a long kiss goodbye, he followed me inside. My dad wasn't home from work yet and I planned to start dinner so it would be ready for him. Edward offered to help and I knew he meant well, but instead of helping, he kept folding me into him and kissing the side of my neck. "You know what I think we should do sometime?"

"No." I reached for a pot, pulling him along with me because he wouldn't let go.

"I think we need to pay a visit to your old room." His tongue tickled my neck up to my earlobe, where he nibbled and his breath brought my goose bumps out of hiding. My entire right side felt like chilling little feet were running up and down my body.

"What's so significant about my old room?" I brought the pot to the sink to fill it with water, Edward trailing behind, still attached to me.

"Oh, I don't know…the purple comforter. I've always liked it."

"Do you want it? It would look nice in your room. You can have it if you like it that much." I placed the pot on the stove and started the burner.

"Does it come with you? I'd sleep in burlap if it came with you."

I turned around and hugged him. "Me too."

"Is that what you're going to talk to your dad about tonight? Us sharing a room?"

I peered up at him. "No. I have to ask him something else. Maybe we can just wait until next month. I'll be eighteen then and we won't have to ask anyone anything."

"A month? I'll ask him if you want."

"Do you want to get shot, or run over, or hit with a billy club?"

"I want to sleep with you. Sleep. Remember waking up together after our engagement? Wasn't that the best morning?"

"Ever. It was the best morning ever." I tugged on his neck until he brought me his lips.

"So, you don't want me to stay and you don't want to tell me what tonight's about."

"I'll tell you, Edward. I just have to talk to my dad, first, okay? You have to go now. My dad will be home soon." I gave him one more kiss then pushed him toward the door.

"Come find me when you get home."

I told him I would, then watched from the porch as he drove away and the pale sky seemed to follow, growing a shade darker in his wake.

I went back to work, boiling fettuccini and starting Esme's Alfredo sauce recipe. I hadn't needed to write it down back when she first showed me how to make it. Cooking was one thing that came easily to me. I found it enjoyable, focusing on chopping and stirring, while blocking out the world beyond the kitchen.

I nearly dropped two dishes when I turned from the cupboard, my dad's presence giving me a start. I was further surprised to see he wasn't alone.

"Bella. I wasn't expecting you."

"Hey Dad, I just needed to talk to you. I didn't mean to interrupt your evening." I looked at the woman standing next to him, her long straight hair as black as her dress. "I should have called. Are you going out?"

"This is Sue Clearwater. Sue, this is my daughter, Bella." She shook my hand. "Yes, we had plans tonight. I just came home to change out of my uniform. You cooked?"

"It's um...it's only pasta, but it'll keep until tomorrow. I'll put it away for you."

Sue looked up at my dad. "Your daughter cooks for you? We can eat here, Charlie. She went to all this trouble." Her voice was soft and quiet, and there was a slight smile at the corner of her lips as she spoke. I felt a little guilty for being irritated with her because she seemed nice, but I wanted my dad alone tonight. And when had he started dating?

"Sure, we can eat here. Set another place, Bella?"

I set a third place and sat quietly eating my food, wishing I could disappear. The conversation between my dad and Sue seemed forced. How long can a conversation last about the weather? It rained again--shocker. But somehow, they both went on and on about it. They were trying to get to know each other and I was in the way. As soon as I finished eating I would clean my plate and sneak out of their hair. I began shoveling noodles into my mouth to make that moment arrive faster. But then Sue asked my dad a question that captured my interest and froze my hand in the air before my next bite could enter my open mouth.

"Why did you decide to get into law enforcement? Protecting the public is dangerous work."

"Not so dangerous here," he said, looking at me as if he was trying to decide whether to continue. The pause was long and uncomfortable so I put that bite in my mouth to do something other than stare back at him. "It's not a pretty story."

"You don't have to tell it," Sue said, as I simultaneously bluted, "I want to know."

"I don't think it's a good idea right now," he sad

"Why not? I want to know about my dad."

His half-smile that reminded me a bit of Edward. "All right." He sighed--took a swallow of his beer. "You know, Bella, that I didn't grow up here. When I was in high school, my family lived in Green River in Western Washington. I had a girlfriend, Cammie; we were sixteen, and I was drawn to her rebellious nature. I'd always been very shy before her--a lot like you, Bella. She rarely went to class and when she did, she usually skipped out in the middle of it. We had fun together, got into trouble together, but it wasn't anything serious, really. I went to her house once and her dad caught us in her room. We were just hanging out." He gave me a pointed look that told me nothing sexual had gone on. "Of course, as a father myself, coming home that one night to find Edward with you on our couch watching strange infomercials, I can see how it would be easy to jump to conclusions. He physically threw me out of the house, and the screaming that went on after--I wasn't sure who he hated more in that moment, me or Cammie.

"Cammie wasn't in school the next day, or in the coming weeks. My phone calls went unanswered and I left countless messages on their answering machine. We didn't have cell phones back then, so unless she called me, I had no way of getting in touch with her. On the third day her mother answered, but only because she wanted to know if I'd seen Cammie. The police had labeled her a runaway and my statement later confirmed their suspicions. For a while, I searched for her on my own, but had no idea where to look beyond our usual hangouts."

"Did they ever find her?" I asked.

He nodded. "Around that time, spanning years in the eighties, a serial killer plagued Washington and Oregon. They called him the Green River Killer. At the time, I was young and those stories hardly seemed real. He dumped the bodies of many of his victims, mostly prostitutes…some runaways, in the Green River or the surrounding area." He paused for a sip of his drink. "Cammie's body was found in the river."

My eyes grew. I'd had no idea he'd been through anything like this. I thought he simply liked his job. "Was it him? The killer?"

"They never figured it out with her. Most of his victims were found…" he trailed off. "Bella, are you okay with hearing this?"

I nodded.

"Sue?"

She nodded, too. "I've heard of these murders. I know the details."

"Most of his victims had been strangled and were found grouped--intentionally posed. Cammie was found alone and had drowned, no evidence of being strangled at all. So it could have been him, someone else, or even suicide. But the fact that any of those three scenarios were plausible involving someone I was close to…my passion for the law began to grow, and I was convinced I could do a better job of it than our town police. Of course, later you realize it's not all as easy as it looks on TV, but back then I knew I could be better--teenage arrogance."

I watched Sue cover his fist with her hand. The look on her face, half-closed eyes, small, warm smile--she cared about my dad.

We sat eating, or not eating, in silence, my dad's story settling into our minds. I felt sorry for my dad; how different would his life have been if Cammie had lived.

"Why-why did you move to Forks?" I asked.

He cleared his throat. "When your mom and I decided to get married, I knew I wanted to raise my family somewhere small, somewhere safe and beautiful. Renee loved it here at first, but she was from Seattle and was used to bigger towns. After a while, this place seemed to suffocate her, and I was unable to convince her to stay. My past was still too close back then, I couldn't leave and I was dedicated to my job. Maybe too dedicated, I don't know. But can't change that, can we?" He grasped Sue's hand back and then looked at me. "As soon as I knew you two were moving to Phoenix, I made it a point to befriend their police chief and kept a watchful eye on the crime in Arizona."

"There's always more to people than what you see, isn't there?" I asked him.

"Always. I have my story, you have yours--I'm glad it's better than mine. And Sue has hers." They exchanged a glance before her eyes fell to her lap. I didn't press that issue, but I knew they needed time alone.

"I'm sorry for what you went through, Dad. Thank you for sharing it."

"I figure you were old enough now to hear it. Who knows, maybe being acquainted with my past will help you in life." He shrugged.

I glanced down at my still half-full plate and knew I wouldn't be finishing my dinner. "I'm going to go, but I-I need to ask you something, alone please."

He excused himself and followed me into the living room.

"Is everything okay?" he asked. "It did occur to me that Edward isn't with you for once. Are you two having trouble?" He folded his arms across his chest.

"No, it's not that at all. It's my truck. It needs work and I can't afford to fix it. I hate to ask for help but I;m out of options." I fingered the end of my dress like I was a child asking her father for ice cream truck money, or something.

"I'm glad you came to me. How much is it?"

"Six hundred dollars."

He stared at me without a word. Was that too much? Maybe I should have asked for less. "But if--"

"Bella, how much is it?" His chin lowered as his eyebrows raised.

"That's it. I'm paying the other half."

"So twelve hundred? Twelve hundred is the actual cost?"

I nodded.

"I'll go down to Arnie's and pay all of it tomorrow."

"Dad. I can afford to pay half. I've been saving the money you give me every month."

"I'm going to pay all of it tomorrow." His firm voice and tight lips told me the conversation was over.

I hugged him so quickly that it knocked him back. "You're welcome," he laughed.

"Thanks, Dad. Go finish your dinner. I'm out of your way." I called Edward for a ride because there was no way I was going to make my dad drive me home. I told Sue it was nice to meet her and she stood up to hug me goodbye, and compliment my dinner.

I waited outside on the porch for Edward as if he was picking me up for a date. In reality, he was picking me up from my dad's house to take me to his house, where I lived but in a separate room. Our situation was so strange it made me laugh to myself. But then, as I sat there in the night under the glow of the porch light and the moon, my father's story began to haunt me and I very nearly went back inside until I heard Edward's car rounding the corner. I met him at the sidewalk and opened my own door before he could move. I tugged on his arm and wrapped it around my neck, leaned my big belly over the gearshift and held onto him.

"What's wrong, Bella?" He kissed the top of my head.

"Nothing. I'm happy to see you." I lifted my face and kissed under the chin.

"That's all?"

"My dad told me and his new girlfriend about why he became a cop. It's an awful story. Can you believe my dad is dating? I don't think he wanted me to know yet."

"Who is she?"

"Sue Clearwater. She seems nice."

"Yeah, she is."

"You know her?" I moved back to my own seat because when you're this pregnant, leaning over that far in a small car is more than a little uncomfortable.

"Her husband was a friend of my dad's."

"She's married?"

"Her husband died. Heart attack, last year."

He drove off, turning toward home. "Please. No more talk of death."

"What?"

"It's too much for one night. I'll tell you another time. "

"You are full of secrets today, Bella."

"This is not a secret. It's more like a horror story."

He shifted gears, then took my hand. "Tell me whenever you're ready." He brought my hand to his lips and I relaxed against the seat, unaware until that moment how stiff I'd been.

"Thank you for picking me up."

He laughed. "You thank me for the strangest things."

"Why is that strange?"

"Thank you for calling me to pick you up instead of walking home or taking the bus." He gave me his crooked smile of sarcasm.

"Ha, ha."

"Bella, I like picking you up and spending anytime at all with you. Stop thanking me for it."

"I can't help it if I was raised to be polite."

"All right. As long as you know that I _want_ to do this. It's not out of obligation."

"You better want me." I ignored all discomfort, leaning over to lick his neck.

"Wanting you is permanent, my Bella. Do that again."

I licked his neck again then left kisses up his throat to his chin and across to his ear, licking behind his earlobe, until he slightly swerved the car and shifted in his seat.

"Did you close your eyes?" I asked.

"No."

"Don't lie."

"Just for half-a-second. It was more like a long blink."

"Too much for you, dear Edward?"

His hand guided my head back against his neck. "Never too much. You were on my ear."

* * *

Back in my room at the Cullens' I changed for bed, slipping into a T-shirt of Edward's that was now snug around my belly.

"Hey…" Edward walked in and pulled me into his embrace, bringing his hands under my shirt and up my back. "Only a moment too late, I see. Are you going to tell me why you needed to be alone with your dad or are you going to make me guess?"

"He's paying to fix my truck."

Edward stiffened and stepped away from me. "Bella. I told you I would help you. You said you had it taken care of."

"I did. I do."

"No you don't. Going to your dad is not you taking care of it. Why don't you want my help?"

"Because you and your family do enough for me. I don't even have a job."

"It doesn't matter. We're family now--you, me and Masen. We take care of each other. You have to accept that."

"My dad wanted to help me. He did. I only asked for half the money but he insisted I take it all."

"Bella." He brought a hand to his head. "We have to prove to our parents that we can do this. You know? Together. You have to discuss these things with me if we're in this together. It's not you and me anymore. It's us."

"I'm sorry, Edward. I didn't think about it like that. I don't…want to burden you."

He shook his head, taking my face in both his hands and lifting it so that I was nearly on my toes. "How can I make you understand that nothing about you will ever be a burden to me? I'm here, right here, for you. Are you here for me?"

I nodded.

"Then let me be here for you."

"I will, Edward. I'll try."

He scoffed, shaking his head again before kissing me. "Don't try. Do." And then he let go of me. "Oh shit, I forgot."

"What?"

"Hang on." I watched him walk out of the room, my eyes on the door until he returned. "Here," he said, handing me a phone with a pink ribbon tied around it. "It's yours. The phone number is the same as your old one."

"Edward! You got me a present on Jasper's birthday?"

He shrugged. "I need mine back."

I yanked his from my bag and handed it to him.

"I think it's time you call your mom, don't you? She needs to know about us. If she's hurtful, I'll be here for you. Plus there's this button right here," he said, pointing to the red circle on the phone. "It works better than the wall."

I shoved his shoulder. "Shut up...and thank you."

He grabbed my arms, wrapping them around his waist. "You're welcome. Go ahead and call her. I'm right here, okay?"

I did call my mom, right then, with my new phone. It was a relief to me when she didn't answer. I left a simple message asking her to call me back. The ball was in her court now; she could let it roll over her feet until it stopped or toss it back. Until I heard from her, my attempts at mending our relationship were complete, and there wasn't anything my dad or Edward could say about that.

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**A/N: Review Please. I appreciate them. :)**

*The Green River Killer was real (maybe you've heard of him?) His murders were much more disgusting than Charlie's description… ick. Cammie is fiction.


	4. Compromise

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight

**A/N: **I have to thank Dollegirl of Dollehouse Recommendations for the awesome rec of this story. It means so much to me! Thanks, Steph!

She plans to post more recommendations on a regular basis so check them out. Quite a few of my readers, including my awesome new beta, Kristen, have told me that they trust her judgment so emphatically that they will read anything she recommends. You can find her future recs here: www(dot)vixenstories(dot)net/dollehouse

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 4: Compromise

Edward and I stopped having sex the week school started for everyone but me. Neither one of us could go through with it anymore because, as illogical as it may seem, we thought we were disturbing, and perhaps traumatizing baby. There was nothing comfortable about my eighth month. My stomach seemed to be getting larger by the day, the baby seemed to be doing gymnastics at night, and anything I drank seemed to go down one end and come right out the other. To top it all off, I was sexually frustrated.

Oh, and yeah, I was still without a truck. Apparently, eight to ten days meant over a month in Forks. Edward dropped me off at Rosalie's house on his way to work. He knew Rosalie and I were going to see Jessica today and asked me if I was sure I was up for this. I had to convince him all over again that I was the best candidate for the job. Jessica hated Rosalie even more than she hated me, and there was no way anyone could convince Jessica that Rosalie would ever have her best interests at heart. He kissed me goodbye and made me promise again that I would walk away if Jessica upset me at all.

Rosalie invited me in with a rose-colored smile on her lips. Her hair was soft over her shoulders, beckoning me to reach out and touch it, so I did. "Is something in my hair?" She grabbed at the ends of it and made a face as if there may be a bug in it.

"No, it's just soft," I said, following her inside.

Rosalie's mom flitted around like a humming bird, cleaning from corner to corner, a house that already appeared perfectly clean to me, but apparently was unsatisfying to her. Upon entering, I saw her frantically dusting and she ushered me out of the room as she began polishing her kitchen floors because she didn't want me inhaling the chemicals. On our way out, she was vacuuming the living room in straight, even lines. Rosalie and I had to be sure to walk only on the parts of the carpet she had not gone over yet. I wondered where Rosalie would walk when she returned home. Would she need to float across the carpet, leap perhaps, to get to the stairs?

We'd been up in Rosalie's room rehearsing possible scenarios that might come about while dealing with Jessica, trying to deduce the best way to approach the subject. There was no better person to practice all plausible avenues of bitchiness with than Rosalie. She knew every angle Jessica might come at me from, but neither of us could predict how Jessica would react upon seeing me show up, out of our overcast sky, at her house.

The plan was to be sugar and honey no matter what Jessica might say. I was preparing myself to walk away from the situation with quite a brown nose from all the butt kissing I would be taking part in.

Rosalie drove me in the little black BMW her father passed down to her when he'd upgraded to an SUV. She warned me not to open the glove compartment (not that I'd planned on it) because it wouldn't close again. "My dad never got it fixed."

"Is your mom always like that?"

"Like what?"

"Cleaning like she's on speed or something?"

"Oh, well, she is a clean freak, but it's worse now because my sister, Irina and her family are coming. Everything needs to be perfectly disinfected for the baby." She slowed the car and squinted at the upcoming street sign. It was covered by tree branches but she must have figured it wasn't the street she was looking for and sped past it. "Tell Edward that my sister's coming. He'll want to see her and I'd like you to meet her. We're having a big dinner at our house on Saturday night."

"Great," I said, plucking at the pastel-striped tunic I was wearing, "I'll get a chance to thank her for the beautiful maternity clothes."

Rosalie laughed. "Not much longer, Bella and you'll be back in your old faded jeans and tees." She pulled up in front of a large, two-story house, a perfectly manicured lawn stamped out front. "Here it is."

I took a deep breath and left Rosalie in the car. She would wait for me there, hopefully unbeknownst to Jessica.

The doorbell was the kind that played music. I hoped they would hear it so I wouldn't have to play the song again. Lauren answered the door, throwing me off by her presence.

"I think you have the wrong house." She tried to close the door, but I blocked it with my hand.

"No. I'm here to see Jessica."

"It's okay, Lauren," Jessica said, peeking out from behind her. Both of them had their hair in ringlet curls and their faces plastered with makeup. I wouldn't be surprised if they were inside giving each other makeovers while I'd made trip after trip to Rosalie's bathroom to pee and then pulled my own too-long hair into a loose bun just so it wouldn't make me sweat.

"Bella, look at you," Lauren said, raising one perfectly tweezed eyebrow and looking me up and down. "I never thought I'd see the day when I'd get to call you fat."

"Yeah, well, congratulations. That day has come. Jessica, can I talk to you alone, please?"

She stepped outside, shutting the door behind her, and I followed her gaze to see Rosalie smile and wave. So much for being discreet.

"How are you?" I asked, pulling her attention from Rosalie.

"Fine. Can't you tell?" She pointed to the doormat that read, "Welcome". Then she bent down and flipped it over. That side read, "Go Away," and she laughed. "Funny, right?"

"Yeah, it is. Jessica, I wanted to thank you for that letter you wrote. I really appreciated it. It showed me another side to you, and I thought…I wondered if circumstances were different…maybe we could have been friends."

She seemed to think about that for a minute, bringing a finger to her lips. I pretended to get distracted by her nail color. "Pretty nail polish." I also wanted to ask if she and Lauren were playing "supermodel," but thought now was no time for sarcasm.

"Thanks…I'm sure we could have been friends, but you--"

"I know. I guess I was selfish. When do you think I really screwed things up between us? Do you think it was when I started hanging out with Edward, or that time I denied dating him even though I kind of thought I was, or was it that time I overreacted after you kissed him as a mistletoe joke?"

"I don't know. I suppose it was a number of things adding up. You know, I never told anyone about your baby. I said I would, but I didn't."

"Yeah, I know. Mike told me."

"You talk to Mike?"

"Just once." I paused. I had to think of a way to return to the subject of her mistletoe kiss. "Anyway, I think I really overreacted that day you kissed him. It was a joke and I should have just laughed, but jealousy got the better of me."

"You were jealous of me?"

"A little, but only for only a second. I wondered if he liked it." I couldn't help but cringe as I said the words.

Jessica noticed but seemed to misinterpret my action. "I'm sure it had no effect on him. And I probably shouldn't have done it. It was kind of immature of me. I've grown up a lot since then."

"I can tell." I allowed her a moment to smile and I smiled back. "You know, one thing that's really been bothering Edward about that day is that you thought he was threatening you. He was angry that you kissed him in front of me, sure, but he didn't mean to frighten you. Are you still afraid of him?"

She laughed. "I was never afraid of him. I was just mad and embarrassed."

"Really? Because he's trying to get into Stanford and he might not get in because your complaint is in his file."

She stared at me with a puzzled frown. "Is that why you're here?"

"No. I mean, yes, it would be nice if you would set the record straight if you really weren't threatened by him. But I mostly wanted to tell you that I appreciated your letter and hoped we might become friends again."

"So if I help him, he'll get into Stanford?"

"He'll have a better chance at a scholarship."

"And if I help him get into Stanford, then we'd be friends?"

"Sure. Just don't kiss my boyfriend, because friends don't do that to each other." I laughed a nervous laugh. I was unsure whether she was seriously considering this or if she was being sarcastic and was about to snap.

"What do I need to do? Go talk to the principal? If he thinks I made it up, won't he put a mark in my file?"

"Maybe you don't have to say that you made it up. Maybe you can just say that you misinterpreted the situation and that you wanted to come forward about the misunderstanding."

She seemed to think about that, looking past me again, hands on her hips. I hoped it worked because I was running out of rehearsed arguments. "Okay, Bella, I'll help you. Friends, right?"

"Friends." I held my hand out for her to shake, but she hugged me instead.

"Wow," she said. "It's hard to hug you."

"Tell me about it."

Back in the car, Rosalie couldn't miss my ear-to-ear smile. "It worked, I gather?" she asked, pulling away from the curb.

"Yes, but there's a catch: I have to be friends with her. I don't know if that will be a bigger mistake in the end."

"Well, that's a bitch. I'm glad it's you and not me."

"If you were in my position, would you have befriended her?"

"I would have been _best_ friends with her if I had to. Still, I'm glad it's you, not me."

"Yeah, thanks," I said out of the side of my mouth. "You're pretty loyal to Edward, though, aren't you?"

"He's always been loyal to me."

"Always?"

She appeared to concentrate on the road for a minute but it turned out she was concentrating on memories. "Let's put it this way. When we were nine, he tried to teach me to skateboard outside my house. You saw the steep hill we live on and my parents did not allow us to skateboard on our street. But we were ignoring the rules because it's fun. His parents and everyone were inside so we were doing whatever we wanted. I would just sort of glide down the hill and if I felt like I was going too fast or getting out of control, I'd swerve to a nearby lawn. Well one time, I was so scared, I just jumped off, but the skateboard kept going and collided right into a parked car. It was one of those red Mustangs people take way too much pride in, and the worst part was that the owner was outside and saw the skateboard dent up his Precious."

"Oh no."

"Edward took the blame. The guy cursed him out pretty bad, then followed us back to my house where he informed Edward's parents that they would be paying for the damage. Edward wouldn't let me fess up; even at nine years old he was mister noble. He missed out on his family vacation that year because they couldn't afford it, and he had to spend the whole summer mowing that guy's lawn."

"So, because of that, you'll do anything for him?"

"No, Bella, that's just one example. You know Edward, don't you? He's always been the way he is now. It's in his nature. In fact, I bet if you asked him about the skateboard incident, he'd downplay it. Make it out to be no big deal--like anyone in his position would have done the same thing."

"His nobility almost kept him from trying for Stanford."

"And your nobility kept his Stanford dream alive, didn't it?"

I looked over at her and she took her eyes off the road to smile at me.

"You two are so similar and neither one of you can see it. You've constantly been tripping over each other to keep the other one happy. You both ignore your own feelings in favor of the other."

"You and Emmett aren't that way?"

"To an extent, I guess. But Emmett and I know what we want and don't compromise ourselves as easily. I can tell you this much. If I decided not to move to California next year. If I decided to go to some other college in some other state, Emmett would not give up Stanford. Not that I'd ask him to, but he wouldn't. We'd see each other during holidays and vacations."

"I don't get what you're saying. Should we be less self-sacrificing and more selfish?"

"I'm saying you have to be careful, Bella, because if you ignore too much of yourself it could be damage your relationship later."

"What am I ignoring?"

"You tell me."

"Nothing."

"Okay."

She pulled into the Cullens' drive, but before I got out of the car, she held my arm. "Bella, I didn't mean that you and Edward aren't doing things the right way. There's a reason you two are together and I'm with Emmett. It's the fit, the personality. Look at Alice and Jasper; she's almost always happy and carefree and he's heavy into emotions. There's no way he could be with someone who was depressed all the time or even someone like me. Haven't you noticed that he tends to keep his distance from me?"

I hadn't noticed, but now that I thought about it, Jasper and Rosalie did tend to interact less than the rest of us.

"I don't take it personally. I know it's because I have a bite."

"Yeah, I remember. I've been bit by you."

"Don't think you've felt the last of my venom, either." She poked my arm with her long fingernail. "Now get out."

I laughed, "Bye, Rosalie."

Waddling into the house, I arched my back to keep my stomach from toppling forward and I moved slowly so I didn't trip over rocks or my own feet. I took a break on the sofa and Esme, noticing my red face, brought me a glass of water.

"How are you doing, Bella?"

"I wish it was raining right now. I'd go stand in it. I'm hot and heavy. I spent the first few months of my pregnancy terrified, the next few months, still terrified but happy and excited. Now, all I'm feeling is done. I just want the thing out. Can you get it out for me?"

She laughed. "Why don't you take a bath? Relax?"

Suddenly it was as though I'd never heard an idea more brilliant in all my life. I would have run up the stairs if I could, but instead I toddled my way to the tub.

After my bath, I tried to wrap a towel around myself but I couldn't quite get it comfortably closed. Irritated all over again, I went to my room to put on an ugly dress and lie down. But just after I pulled my dress over my head, Edward entered. "Hi, how did it go?"

I lifted a hand toward him. "Hold my hand, I haven't seen you all day." He gave me both of his hands, intertwining our fingers.

"Hold your hand? How about I hold you?" He started to wrap his arms around me, but I pushed away from him.

"No. I'm already hot again. I barely had a chance to get cool and before that I was called fat by someone who enjoyed calling me that a little too much."

"Jessica said that?"

"No, Lauren was there. Jessica's going to help you, by the way." I narrowed my eyes at him instead of smiling. "I sold my soul to the devil, but you'll get your Stanford opportunity."

"Bella, you sound different. Are you angry with me?"

"No, I'm not angry with you, Edward. Did you do something I should be angry about?" We were both frowning at each other at this point, but still holding hands.

"Then why are you being short with me? I didn't force you to talk to Jessica. I'm grateful that you did, but I never asked or wanted you to do it."

I let go of his hands. "I know. It's not you, Edward. Rosalie was examining our relationship or something and even though she started backtracking at the end, it made me wonder if we are as perfect as we think we are."

"No relationship is perfect, but what is wrong with ours?"

"How should I know? When I asked her she wouldn't tell me."

"So, she knows something is wrong between us that hasn't bothered either one of us, up until now, but she won't tell you what it is? Don't you think that sounds a little strange?"

"Edward. Can you just be quiet before I have to ask you to leave?"

"No problem." He left, closing the door behind him. I stared at the door, wondering how those words even left my mouth. I touched my head. Was my brain malfunctioning?

I went directly to Edward's room. He was pulling books out of his bag.

"You're going to study?"

"Yep. That's what happens when you go to school and then work the rest of the day. You come home and all you have time for is studying." He looked up at me.

I flinched. "Okay, I deserved that. Can you forgive me for my temporary insanity?"

"You didn't deserve that." He shook his head. "I was just…pissed." He stepped toward me.

"Because of me?" I smiled. "I pissed you off?"

"Why are you proud of that?"

"Because I'm still a little insane and I don't think I've done that before…have I?"

"I usually hide it better."

We both laughed.

"So, are you still too hot for me to hug you?" he asked.

"Yes, but do it anyway."

We hugged and he kissed my head. "I'm sorry you had a rough day. Did it really bother you that Lauren called you fat?"

"No. It bothered me that she was all skinny and gloat-y about it."

"Gloat-y? There really is something happening to your brain, isn't there?"

"Maybe somehow Jessica invaded my mind when I agreed to be friends with her."

"That would be a nightmare…but are you sure there wasn't a part of you that was slightly mad at me because you compromised yourself for me? A few minutes ago you seemed really mad."

"I don't even know which feelings are real and which aren't. What I do know is that I want to start packing my hospital bag just in case the baby is as ready to get out of me as I am ready for baby to get out."

"Aw, Bella, that's what's wrong."

"I guess that's it. I'm feeling normal and then all of a sudden everything irritates me. I'm not used to that."

"Well, thank you, love, for risking your sanity for me today. And let's try not to argue over some unknown problem between us just because it _might_ be there."

"I won't."

"What did Rosalie say, anyway?"

"She implied that both of us give too much of ourselves to the relationship and might lose out in the process. She compared us to her and Emmett. Like they have each other but still have their separate selves. What do you think? Is she right?"

He pushed my hair back on both sides of my face and kissed my temple. "I don't know, Bella, but this is the only way I know how to be with you. I don't think that I could ever make a decision without considering you first. If that means I'm losing a part of myself, I will happily let that part go."

"Edward. I'm convinced Rosalie had no idea what she was talking about." I put my hands around his neck and pulled his head down to my lips because standing on my tiptoes to reach him was too much trouble, and very likely dangerous, at this point. He gladly brought his face to mine, his lips to mine, his tongue to mine.

"I guess you have to study now."

"I do. Do you want to stay? We can eat dinner up here while I work on homework."

"Really? I'm allowed to be in here while you're working?"

"Now that sex is out of the equation, why not?"

"Edward!'

"I'm just kidding. Come here," he said, pulling me close again with a hand on the small of my back to kiss me just enough to frustrate both of us with our no-sex agreement, but not quite enough to push either of us past the point of no return.

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	5. Grief

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

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* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 5: Grief

It was one of those occurrences. You remember getting into the car, and suddenly you're there, at the hospital, without any recollection of how you got there because you were lost inside your own head the entire time. You didn't actually see anything you passed. No trees. No buildings. No other cars. All you saw was your own panic flashing through your mind.

Twenty-two minutes. That's how long it had taken to get from the Cullens' house to the hospital.

Four minutes. That's how long it had taken for Edward and me to get out of his house and into the car.

Forty-seven seconds. That's how long I'd been on the phone in the Cullens' kitchen before I started screaming for Edward.

It had been Emmett on the phone. Emmett speaking in loud, fast, jumbled words.

"Edward!" I yelled as soon as I hung up, hurrying from the kitchen to the living room, and into the foyer. "Edward!" I yelled again, nearly bumping into him as he stepped off the bottom stair.

"Bella! What is it?!"

"We have to go. Now!" I reached into his pants pockets. "Where are your keys?"

"Go where?"

"Hospital! Get your keys. I'll call Alice."

He grabbed my shoulders, his face pale, his eyes wide. "Bella. Stop. Tell me what is going on. Is it the baby?"

"It's Rosalie. She's been in an accident. We have to get to the hospital. Emmett's there, by himself. Edward! Are your keys in your room?"

"Wh-what happened? Is she okay? " His grip on my shoulders tightened.

"I don't know. She was with her dad and her sister. They're all hurt, I guess. Please, Edward."

He still didn't move, so I pushed past him and started up the stairs. "I'll get your keys. You call Alice."

He took my arm as I approached the third step. "They're in the kitchen. You call Alice."

His voice was quiet, slow, but his movement was fast as he headed to the kitchen. He was back within a few seconds, grabbed my hand and pulled me to the car. I'm not positive either one of us even closed the front door.

My mind was racing faster than Edward's car. Was Rosalie okay? Was Edward okay? Esme was out picking up ingredients for the Hale's dinner tonight. Would the dinner still take place? How bad was this? I studied Edward, his eyes squinting, staring straight ahead, his mouth tight. He didn't seem to feel my hand on his arm; he was a statue beside me. My heart was slamming against my chest so hard it hurt. Was his heart pounding like this, too?

"Edward."

He shifted gears. "Bella." He took my hand and held it to his lips until he had to shift again.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"Are you?"

Neither of us answered the question.

Less than thirty minutes after I'd received Emmett's call, Edward and I were rushing through the hospital in pursuit of Rosalie. One of my hands held Edward's, while my other arm clutched the bottom of my stomach as if my baby would tumble out if I moved too quickly. I knew my pace was holding Edward back, and a part of me wanted to tell him to go ahead, but I didn't want him to leave me, and I knew he wouldn't, anyway. We were directed to the fourth floor, where we shoved the double doors open to find Emmett seated in the waiting lobby, his head in his hands.

"Emmett," Edward said. "How is she?"

Emmett looked up, eyes red with worry and exhaustion. "I don't know, man. They won't tell me anything. Her mom and dad are with her now." His voice lacked inflection, his shoulders hunched, his head bowed.

"You haven't seen her?"

"No. I've been sitting here for two hours. I'm fucking numb right now." He cracked his knuckles, maybe just to see if he could feel it. "Your dad's here. He's trying to get some information."

"What happened?" I asked and took a seat beside Emmett. I clutched my own hands bracing myself for whatever I might hear next.

He put a hand on my knee as he spoke. "All I know is her dad was driving Rose…Rose and her sister to Port Angeles and, he uh, he ran off the road, into a tree."

That's when the three of us looked straight ahead at the same time. Down the hall we saw Rosalie's parents and, who must have been her sister's husband, all exiting a room and sort of walking toward us. I say sort of walking because Mrs. Hale was barely taking her own steps, being held up by her son-in-law, while Rosalie's father stumbled, head down, behind them. All three of them were crying.

"That's Rosalie's room," Emmett said, standing up and motioning to the room Rosalie's family had just emerged from. I stood up too and moved to Edward, who was staring as if in a trance at the image of people making their slow way toward us. Emmett was the only one of us who took a step forward. I felt for Edward's hand and grasped; his fingers were loose on mine. I held onto his arm with my other hand and kissed his shoulder, then left my forehead resting against him; I couldn't look up--not until I heard Emmett's voice.

"Is she…hurt?"

Rosalie's mom shook her head and covered her face.

"She's injured," Emmett said in a deep, shaky voice. "But she'll be fine."

Rosalie's mom shook her head again, sobbing into her hands, "I-I-Irina." She turned and hugged Irina's husband and they sobbed together. Rosalie's father guided them to chairs in the lobby and nobody spoke.

Carlisle approached right after they were all seated, andEmmett was in front of him in an instant, followed closely by Edward and me. "What?" Emmett asked.

Carlisle put a hand on Emmett's arm and whispered, "Irina didn't make it," he pushed against his eyebrows with his thumb and forefinger. My heart fell to my stomach. "Internal bleeding. It was just too fast. There was nothing they could do. But Rosalie has a slight concussion. Physically, she'll be fine." He shook his head. "But prepare yourself, Emmett, she is far from emotionally fine." He gave us all permission to enter her room and I saw him exchange a glance with Edward. I couldn't read either of their expressions at all, but got the feeling they understood each other perfectly.

Rosalie was lying on her side facing the window and was as still as if she were part of the bed itself. I couldn't even see her breathe, or blink. "Rosalie?" Emmett whispered, bending over her. "Rose." He guided her face toward him but she wouldn't look at him and when he leaned in to kiss her, she turned her head back toward the window. He kissed her cheek a couple of times. "I love you," he whispered. "Rose? Look at me, babe."

"No."

"Come on, Rose. Look at me."

"Go away!"

"Rose." He brushed her face with his hand--the gentlest gesture I'd ever seen him make. "Babe. I'm here. I've been here."

"Go!" Eyes still on the window, she pushed his hand off her face. He backed up a few steps and sank into the gray chair.

I took Rosalie's hand, and felt her hold mine back. "I'm sorry about your sister, Rosalie."

Her face was slow to turn to mine. She was pale, and bags had nestled under her eyes as if they were planning on staying, as if they were now a permanent part of her, like her arms or her legs, or worse…scars. She opened her mouth to speak a few times, but nothing came out until she found her voice and startled me. "What the fuck are you sorry for? You've never met her!" She yelled the words, but at the same time, she still held tight to my hand. I squeezed it to let her know I was there.

"I mean, I'm sorry for what you're going through."

"Don't you feel sorry for me. Whatever I'm going through, I deserve. Feel sorry for her. My sister's life is over. Feel sorry for her daughter, now motherless…for the...for...life." There were no tears, only anger, and her next words came in a whisper, "Two years old."

My eyes were generous enough with tears for the both of us.

"Rose, sweetie," Edward said. "You don't deserve this." One of his hands rested on my back and rubbed softly. His other brushed Rosalie's hair back.

"The fuck I don't. I'm the reason she's gone." Again, I expected her to start crying, but instead she just glared at Edward.

"What!" Emmett said. "You weren't even driving. How could you be to blame?"

"Emmett! I don't want to talk about it!" She dropped my hand. "Can everyone please leave, now?"

"Sure, Rose," Edward said and we started backing out. "We'll be right outside."

"Except for you," she said to Edward.

"You want me to stay? What about Emmett?"

"Are you going to stay or not?" Rosalie asked.

"Of course."

I looked over at Emmett, whose shoulders were slumped again, head facing the floor. For the first time, he actually looked small. I took his hand and guided him out of the room.

"Why does she think it's her fault?" I asked as soon as the door was closed.

"I don't have a clue."

"It doesn't make sense."

"I know."

"But she seemed so adamant about it."

"I know, Bella!"

"Okay."

"Sorry, B." He shook his head.

"It's okay."

Alice rushed through the double doors across the hall, Jasper following, and I wondered who had called her, because I certainly hadn't. I'd been lost in thoughts of Rosalie, and Edward's reaction to the news. It had completely slipped my mind to call Alice until she slipped in between Emmett and me.

"How is she? What happened?"

I pulled her aside to fill her in. Before I finished, she was bursting through Rosalie's door just as Edward burst out. I took a step toward him, but he walked right past me, storming straight to the waiting lobby where he stopped in front of Rosalie's dad.

"How could you do something like that to her?" His voice was low, his tone angry, almost a growl. I came up behind him and put a hand on his back like he'd done for me moments ago.

Mr. Hale looked up at Edward. "This is none of your concern, son."

"The hell it isn't. I'm concerned for Rosalie. _She_ is my concern. You're fucking with her emotions in there and none of it is true. She's eighteen years old! Eighteen!"

"Edward," I said. He turned to me and I saw his eyes--tears building, red around the iris. "What's wrong?"

"He said…he said…" Edward turned back to Mr. Hale while I glanced at Mrs. Hale, who was quaking with sobs.

"Edward." I grabbed hold of his elbow. "Come on. This is not the time." He looked at me again with the same expression, and I touched his cheek. "Come on, Edward. Whatever it was, you can't change it. This is not the time or place. Okay?"

He nodded, and allowed me to lead him back into the hallway. I pulled him into my arms and he cried, his body shaking mine. I held him there and rubbed the back of his neck. "Edward. I'm sorry. I don't know what happened, but you can't do that in front of Rosalie's mom."

"Poor Rosalie…poor Rose."

"What in the hell is going on?" Emmett asked. "Why won't my girlfriend have anything to do with me? What did she tell you, Edward?"

Edward pulled away from my embrace, peered down at me, and ignored Emmett. I held the sides of his face and wiped his tears with my thumbs. He sniffled as he brought his hands to my waist. "You shouldn't be here. This is too much stress for you."

"I'm not leaving. It would be more stressful for me to wait for you alone at your house."

He nodded and pulled me against him again. "I love you, Bella."

"I love you, too."

"Edward, fuck, man. Answer me."

Edward turned us so that he was facing Emmett, but he didn't let go of me--he held me tight to his chest, both arms around me. "Emmett, you don't want to know right now. Really. If I tell you, I don't think Rose's dad will leave alive."

"Don't do this. Don't be an asshole. What if it was Bella in there and she wouldn't talk to you?"

Emmett knew exactly which chord to strike with Edward. "All right," Edward said, releasing me, "All right. But not here. Let's go outside."

Emmett glanced toward Rosalie's closed door. It was obvious he didn't want to leave.

"Come on," Edward said, "we'll be right back, but you don't want to be anywhere near Rosalie's dad when you hear this. Trust me."

Jasper decided to stay and wait for Alice. They were the first words he'd spoken since arriving. "Bella," he said, "maybe you should stay with me."

Edward nodded in agreement with Jasper. But I couldn't. I'd just witnessed Edward break down, and I couldn't leave him. I didn't answer; I just held tight to Edward's hand, and he grasped mine back, as the three of us made our way to the elevators. I noticed Esme was now in the waiting lobby with an arm around Mrs. Hale. I hadn't even seen her arrive. We didn't pause to talk to her.

Outside, Edward kept walking to a small island of grass in the middle of the parking lot where he finally stopped and turned to Emmett. "Here's what Rosalie told me. And I have no idea why she told me and not you. She didn't say anything about you. She said that before they left, she and her sister were pretending to bicker about who would sit in the front. Irina told Rosalie to go ahead. They were in her dad's 4 Runner, and Rosalie had left her bag in the far back. She said she wanted to touch up her lipstick…that's it, you know?"

Emmett nodded.

"She asked Irina to reach back for her bag, but it was farther away than a reach. Irina had to remove her seat belt and lean over the seat to get it. Rose turned around to take it from her and when she faced forward again, a deer ran toward the road and she gasped. Her gasp caused the asshole to swerve, and then over correct, losing control. The car rolled and the next thing Rose remembers is the whole front end crushed against a tree, and her sister was no longer in the car."

I gasped and Edward's arm was instantly around me. He whispered my name.

"So that's why Rosalie is blaming herself?" Emmett asked. "Because she asked for her god-damned lipstick, and was freaked by a deer?"

"Maybe part of it, but Emmett, listen. You need to keep a hold of yourself. When I tell you this, you stay right here where you are."

"Edward, just fucking tell me. You're making it worse."

He took a deep breath, kissed my head and told Emmett what he wanted to hear. "When Rose's family was in her room breaking the news of Irina's death to her, her father told her..." He paused and pressed his fingertips against his eyes. "He said that she has always been too vain and her vanity is the reason her sister is dead." Edward's tears fell despite his efforts to block them with his fingers. "He told her that if it hadn't been for her, Irina would still be alive. He said that, Emmett. He said those words to Rosalie. He told her that she is the reason her sister is dead."

I covered my mouth, tears running over my hands as I looked between Edward and Emmett who were both seething with anger. I doubted my ability to keep both of them from going back into the hospital after Mr. Hale.

"Fuck!" Emmett said. "What the fuck?!" He turned around--brought a hand to his head.

"How can he say something like that to her?" I asked. Edward held me tight.

"I don't know, Bella. I don't fucking know."

"I've got to see her," Emmett said, facing Edward again. "Can you get her to let me in, Edward?"

"I'll try. But Emmett, Bella made a good point before. Rose's family is hurting. Neither one of us can say anything to her father in front of her mom or Irina's husband."

Emmett nodded, but his jaw was clenched and so were his fists. As the three of us began to return to the hospital, Jasper and Alice approached. Alice came straight to me, hugged me, and we cried together. I wondered if Rosalie told her what she'd told Edward, but I couldn't ask.

"Edward," Jasper said, "Rosalie's asking for you."

"Emmett wants to see her," Edward said.

"She doesn't want to see anybody but you," Alice said. "She made me leave, too. She yelled and cursed at me until I left."

Emmett covered his face with his hands. "What the fuck is going on?"

"I'll talk to her for you," Edward said, then tugged on my fingers. "Come here, Bella." I followed him a few steps away from the others.

"Bella, I have to stay here with Rosalie. For some reason she doesn't want to deal with anyone else, so I can't leave until she leaves, okay?"

"I understand."

"I knew you would." He kissed me. "I think you should go with Jasper and Alice, and we'll try to get Emmett to go with you, too. He probably won't. I know he won't, but we'll try. You need to get some rest and eat, though. If you don't want to be alone, you can stay at Jasper's. He won't mind."

I nodded.

"If you need anything, you'll call me?"

I nodded again. "Are you okay, Edward?"

"I don't know what okay feels like right now, Bella. But I have to be here for Rosalie."

His face was so close to mine that I had to kiss him, and when he tried to end the kiss I followed him with my lips. He held my face and continued the kiss for me. "I love you," he said, and kissed me again. "I'll see you later, okay?" He kissed me one last time before we walked back to our friends.

Emmett was allowing Jasper to hug him. Alice was standing off to the side, looking down. Edward had been right about Emmett, though. There was no way any of us could talk him into leaving, so they walked us to Jasper's truck and watched as we drove off.

Alice sat in the middle between Jasper and me, and Jasper had his arm around her. "I hope Rosalie talks to Emmett," he said. "For Emmett's sake. He is really feeling helpless right now. And his temper is flaring toward Edward. He knows it's irrational, though and he's trying to control it. I don't know how long he can hold out."

"You know all that just from touching him?" I asked.

"No, Bella. He told us most of it while you were talking with Edward. But yes, I could feel his anger building."

"Why do you think she wants Edward and not Emmett?" I asked.

"I don't have a clue. It doesn't make any sense to me. What about you, Alice?"

"I don't know, either. Maybe because Edward knew Irina longer. He's known her since he was a kid. Emmett's only met her once or twice." She shrugged. "But I really don't know. If I was in her situation, you're the only person I would want, Jasper. Bella, did she talk to you at all?"

"She only yelled at me," I said.

"Me too. She kept telling me to leave, but I refused. She kept yelling and swearing at me, though, until I couldn't stand it anymore. She is so angry."

"Did she tell you why?" I asked.

"She didn't tell me anything. What do you know?"

I took a deep breath and reiterated the story Edward had told Emmett and me. I, however, was not nearly as composed as Edward had been. My version of the story came out in long pauses and wails. I felt Jasper's hand on my shoulder.

"Bella. Bella, calm down sweetheart." But then he had to pull the truck over because he had to calm both of us down. His girlfriend and his best friend's girlfriend, both his responsibility now. He put a hand on Alice's face and brought her eyes to him. "Alice, I know you love Rosalie, but we have to pull it together, okay? These emotions, they can't be good for Bella right now. Can you be calm, baby?" She wrapped an arm around me, rested her head on my shoulder, and we both tried to quiet our sobs together.

"You're coming to my place, Bella," Jasper said, "Are you hungry?"

"I don't know." I hadn't thought about food at all.

He brought us to the diner and ordered takeout. Neither Alice nor I could tell him what we wanted, so he just went in and ordered a variety of food from pasta to hamburgers and salad,. We went to his apartment and ate on the couch because he still didn't have a table. He asked me how I was feeling a few times, but he must not have believed me when I said I was okay, because after the fourth time, he put a warm hand on my stomach. Then he smiled at me.

"You're fine," he said.

Alice had to leave just before midnight, and I still hadn't heard from Edward. Jasper asked if I wanted to wait there or come with him to drop Alice off. I told him I would wait, thinking maybe they needed some privacy. "You should sleep," he said. "You can use my bed. I'll stay on the couch."

He brought me a T-shirt and a pair of sweats. I thanked him, but had no intention of sleeping in his bed. After they left, I changed into his clothes, curled up on the couch, and stared into darkness until my eyes grew heavy and I drifted off. When I woke up, someone was kissing me. I rolled over a little, but there was too much room. Where was I? I shot up and looked around, but it was too dark. "It's just me," Edward said. "Sorry I woke you."

"Where are we?" I reached for his arm and pulled him closer.

"In Jasper's bed. You were asleep on the couch when I got here, and he insisted I move you. You need to be comfortable. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Not scared. Just disoriented. How's Rosalie? Did she go home?"

"No. She's finally sleeping, and I had to come and see you. I couldn't stay away any longer. They're discharging her in the morning, and I'll go back to pick her up."

"And Emmett? Did she talk to him?"

He took my hand and played with my fingers, twining them and un-twining them with his. "She still refuses to talk to anyone but me, and she doesn't do much talking at all. She just lets me sit there with her. Emmett is staying, though. He won't even wait in the lounge. He parked himself on the floor outside her room, until they let me bring a chair over for him."

I shook my head.

"Bella, don't be upset, okay? I know it's hard, but try. Here, lie down." He pulled on my shoulder until I was leaning against him and he was rubbing my arm trying to relax me. "Go back to sleep." He kissed my forehead and my temple over and over again, until I was asleep.

"I love you," I said, or dreamt.

* * *

**A/N: **Please review.


	6. Hush

**Stephenie Meyer Owns Twilight**

**A/N: **I think I may have missed getting back to some of you lovely reviewers. Sorry about that--I'll try not to do it again because I do appreciate the time you take to review. :)

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 6: Hush

Edward slept, fully dressed, his arm over my middle, his leg over my thigh. Squirming beneath his limbs to face him, I couldn't help but touch the little bit of stubble along his jaw. I kissed his chin, then grunted as baby jammed a foot or a fist into my ribs.

"Bella," Edward groaned in his sleep.

"Shh," I said, kissing the corner of his mouth. His face turned, lips pulling on mine. Amused that he was kissing me in his sleep, I kissed him again to see if he would continue to return it. I laughed when his tongue reached for mine.

My laughter woke him up and he blinked at me, "What?"

"I love the way you kiss in your sleep. It's different. Like, really slow."

"We were kissing?"

"Mmm-hmmm."

"Why did we stop?"

"I have no idea."

He responded with more kisses. "How are you feeling, Bella?" he asked, but didn't stop kissing me long enough for an answer. "How's baby?" His kiss continued.

"The baby…" I said against his lips, "…was kicking my ribs…and now…baby is attacking my bladder."

"Don't go…hold it."

"I have been, but I can't anymore."

He ignored me, unrelenting in his kisses, and I really didn't want him to stop, but my bladder had other plans. "Okay," he said when I started wiggling. He released me with a cheek-peck, but didn't let me get far before tugging on the hem of my shirt.

"This isn't mine," he said.

"Jasper let me borrow it, and the sweats, too."

"I would ask you to take it off if Jasper wasn't right over there." He pointed to the screen that was the only thing separating this part of the apartment from the living room.

"I suppose I could be wearing _your_ shirt if you had bothered to remove it," I said over my shoulder on the way to the bathroom.

After relieving myself and washing my hands, I started missing my toothbrush. Jasper's was in a cup on the sink edge, reminding me that mine was miles away. I put a spot of Colgate on my fingertip and finger-brushed my teeth.

Back in Jasper's sort-of-bedroom, Edward sat up, pulled me by my hips and kissed my stomach. He seemed to have forgotten that it was Jasper's shirt his lips were touching.

"What time do you have to pick up Rosalie?" I asked.

"She's being discharged at 8:30. What time is it? It's still dark." He brought his phone out of his pocket to answer his own question. "Quarter-to-six. We should still be asleep."

"Let's go to your house to shower before we have to get Rosalie."

"You're coming with me?"

"Well, yeah…or I could wait for you."

"No. You should come." He took my hand. "Definitely come. It might be nice for her to see you there. Besides, I think last night was enough time spent apart."

"No more time apart," I said, tugging on his fingers, too. "Did Rosalie get any better?"

"I don't know. I tried to talk to her about Emmett, but she shut me down, and then she wouldn't talk to me about anything. But every time I told her I'd let her get some sleep, she stopped me from leaving."

"She doesn't want to be alone. I wonder why she's avoiding Emmett, though."

"Bella." He brought his fingers up my arms. "Come and lie with me before we go. I need to feel you."

I let him pull me down to the bed, my back against him, his arms wrapping my stomach. "You make things better," he said. "If anything ever happened to you or baby, I'd--"

"Shh. Don't talk like that." I reached back to touch his face, and he turned to kiss my palm. "I'm glad Rosalie is okay," I said. "Physically, I mean."

"Me too."

"It's awful, what happened to Irina, a nightmare. Rosalie loved her; she wanted me to meet her." My voice cracked, and it was Edward's turn to shush me.

"Bella, let's not talk about it. Try not to think about it. I'm so worried about you. Maybe you should see Dr. Denali."

"I have an appointment on Wednesday, remember? Just three more days. I feel okay, Edward. I feel the same--uncomfortable, as always, baby's moving all the time--it's just accompanied by sadness now."

"I know. That's what worries me. " He left random kisses on the back of my neck, his hold tightening around my stomach. As the sun took its time brightening the apartment, I lay still in Edward's arms, hoping to help him through this just by being next to him, his body curving around mine. At six o'clock, we decided it was time to go so we could shower and still make it to the hospital before Rosalie awoke.

On our way out, Jasper woke up just in time for me to apologize for taking his bed.

"You didn't take my bed," he said, sitting up on the couch. "I had to get Edward to carry you over there because you're too worried about imposing on other people. You need to get over that, Bella." Some strands of hair had fallen over his eyes. I wondered how he could see, and how he wasn't bothered by it, but he never pushed it away.

"Yes, she does," Edward said.

"You carried me, by yourself, with all this extra weight on me?"

Edward smiled. "You're not that heavy, even with your extra weight."

I turned to Jasper. "Well, thank you for giving me your bed. You're a good friend."

"So are you." Jasper left the couch to give me a warm hug. "Let me know when Rosalie is ready to see other people, Edward."

* * *

Emmett was sleeping outside Rosalie's door in his chair. He could have been mistaken for a guard the way he sat, so big, his arms folded across his chest. His head leaned to one side and he stirred as we approached, giving us a groggy, "Hey."

"No change, I guess," Edward said.

Emmett shook his head, looking down at his lap.

"Do you mind if I go in?" Edward asked.

Emmett shook his head again, this time slower.

Edward turned to me, but I told him to go without me. If Rosalie wanted me to, I'd see her, but I wasn't going to force it at this point. As Edward closed the door, I squatted in front of Emmett, placing my hands on his knees. "Have you had a chance to talk to her?"

"Not really. Here, take my seat." He started to get up, but I stopped him, telling him to stay put.

"I stayed with her for a while after Edward left," he said. "She was sleeping, but she woke up, saw me, and flipped out--told me to get out of her room. I refused to leave her alone, though. She was furious with me, but I just couldn't leave. A nurse gave her something to help her sleep, and as it started to take effect, a small part of _my_ Rosalie came back. She let me hold her hand and kiss her, but she didn't say anything. When I told her I loved her, she nodded and closed her eyes." He sighed. "Well, I guess it's good she knows that, anyway."

"Of course she knows that. Why did you sleep out here, though?"

"She looked so relaxed. I didn't want to make her angry when she woke up, you know? I don't want to add to her depression, or whatever the hell she's going through. How are you doing, B?"

"I'm okay. Just worried about you guys."

He shook his head. "Don't worry too much."

Edward exited her room, closing the door quietly behind him. "She's getting dressed," he said, his voice nearly a whisper. "Emmett…there's something I have to tell you, and it's not going to be easy to hear."

Emmett sat back in his chair, brought his hands to the top of his head, and looked up at the ceiling. He didn't ask, what. He just waited.

"I practically begged her to talk to you, but she won't. She…uh…she doesn't want you here when she leaves the room. I'm sorry, man. I _hate_ telling you this. I tried to change her mind, but when she told me to 'fuck off,' I figured it's better to do as she asks."

Emmett covered his face, dropping his elbows to his knees. "What the fuck did I do?" Edward shook his head, pulling me up from the floor and into his arms as if he needed to reassure himself that I was still there. I kissed his chest; he kissed my head. "I don't think it's anything you did. Maybe she needs time. You heard what the fuck her father said to her. She's not herself at all. We have to try to figure out what she needs and give it to her."

Emmett nodded, stood up, and walked off. "Tell her it's safe to come out now."

I blinked back tears--my cheeks would stay dry today. "Maybe I shouldn't have come. This was a bad idea."

Edward put his hands on my shoulders and brought his face inline with mine. "Bella, she knows you're here and it doesn't matter, because…I told her she could stay with us for a few days. She'll have to see you either way."

"Oh." It was all I could say. I didn't know how I felt about Rosalie staying at the Cullens' house. I knew it wasn't my decision, and I knew Rosalie was going through a horrible time, but I was unsure if I could take it if she continued to yell at me at every turn.

"Come on," he opened the door and guided me into the room with a hand on the small of my back.

"Are you ready, Rose?" he asked.

She nodded, looked at me, but didn't say a word. How was it possible that Rosalie appeared thinner in just one day? It was in her face. Perhaps it was the way she held her mouth and her eyes--both expressionless. I had no idea what to do or say to her. What would be acceptable? Say, hello? Give her a hug or a hand squeeze? I took a step toward her and she took a step back. That was my cue not to do anything but smile. She averted her eyes.

"Come on, beautifuls." Edward swung her bag over his shoulder, took my hand and held his other out to Rosalie. She took it.

* * *

In Rosalie's bedroom, we watched her repack. She paid no mind to what she grabbed from her drawers and stuffed into her bag. I knew it was unlike Rosalie not to care what she wore, but it hit Edward harder. His hand was in his hair, his eyes falling to the floor as though he couldn't watch any longer. I held onto his waist, and his arm squeezed my shoulder, welcoming me against him.

Rosalie's father wasn't home. Her mother was in the living room with her son-in-law and granddaughter. Rosalie ignored everybody, floating around, gathering what she needed, as if she couldn't see anyone, and none of us could see her; as if she wasn't even there; as if she was a ghost.

The little girl toddled over to me on our way out, looked up with her round blue eyes, and held her arms out. I patted her head. "I'm sorry, I can't lift you." I pointed to my tummy giving her an excuse she couldn't possibly understand. Mrs. Hale came over and picked her up.

"Rosie, you don't have to go, hon. Stay here with us." She took her daughter's hand and attempted to catch her eyes with her own teary ones, but it wasn't working. "We love you. We want you here. Your father didn't mean what he said. You know that. What happened yesterday had nothing to do with you." I had to avert my eyes when the first tear streaked Mrs. Hale's face.

Rosalie didn't answer in any way. She looked to Edward, who said, "It will just be for a few days. Rosalie will be back."

Outside, we traveled the walk-way, lined with tree roses, all in full-bloom--an explosion of life and color. Rosalie was still moving much like a zombie. I put a hand on her arm just to let her know I was there if she needed me. Apparently, she didn't. She turned to me, and said the first words I'd heard her say all morning. "Don't comfort me, Bella. I don't want it."

I pulled my hand away, and she took Edward's arm in both of her hands, resting a head against his shoulder as they continued toward Edward's Bug. She did want comfort; she needed it, but she wasn't allowing it to come from anybody but Edward.

"It's okay, Rosalie," Edward said. "Bella's just worried about you. We all are."

Opening the car door, I started to push the seat forward so I could sit in the back, when Rosalie stopped me. She pulled me away gently by the shoulder, and climbed into the car.

Edward closed the trunk, came over to me, and kissed my lips. "Please don't take it personally, Bella," he whispered. "This is going to be extremely hard for me if her presence is hurting you. Are you doing okay, love?"

I nodded, forcing a smile for him. He hugged me and kissed the crook of my neck, and that helped. It felt so good to be in his arms in that moment that I didn't want to let go, but I had no choice. Rosalie was waiting in the backseat all by herself, resembling a child the way she looked up at us. I brought a hand to my stomach and whispered, "Masen." The gesture was automatic, and it surprised me that seeing Rosalie like this made me think of Masen. _Kick against my hand_, I willed, but baby remained still.

Edward pulled away from the curb, Rosalie's house fading into the distance--the past. It seemed one of us in our small group was always packing up and getting away. I wondered if Alice would be next. I hoped not.

Through the side mirror, I could see Rosalie gazing out her window, squinting up at the sky. What was going through her mind? Was she trying to forget, or was she falling deeper into her darkness of guilt and regret? Would she ever be herself again, or would she remain a new version of herself? One we'd all have to get used to, including Rosalie. Maybe that was something everyone did--became new versions of ourselves throughout our lifespan. Only most of us, perhaps, go through the transition over long periods of time, while others plunged instantly into their new, unfamiliar world.

Reminded of my most recent change, my hand met my stomach. Because of baby, I was changing a little every day. A month from now, I would be someone new again--a mom. Who would I have been without Masen? I could barely remember what it felt like to be the old me. That Bella lived with her father and laughed with her mother. That Bella was carefree and playful. That Bella was gone. Did this mean Rosalie was gone, too?

Edward took my hand and held it against his chest as if he'd read my mind, or felt my tension, or maybe he simply needed me the way I needed him.

At the Cullens' house, Rosalie headed straight for the sofa, lay down on the couch, and closed her eyes. Edward brought me into the kitchen.

"Here's what I think," he said. "We should go talk to your dad and ask his permission to share a room. Obviously, I want to anyway, but this way Rosalie can use your room and you'll be with me. The worst thing that can happen is he'll say, no, right? In that case, I'll let her have my room, and I'll sleep in the living room. What do you think?"

"That's fine, Edward, but what are we going to do, leave Rosalie by herself while we go to my dad's?"

"We can't do that."

"I guess I'll just go alone and ask him," I said, on a frustrated sigh. I hadn't meant to sound so irritated, but that was how I felt. I wasn't comfortable having this conversation with my father, and now I had to do it alone, without Edward's helpful words of reason.

"I'm sorry, Bella, but we can't leave her or force her to come with us."

"It's probably better for her if I'm not around today, anyway."

"No. Don't think that way. You belong here no matter what." He lifted my chin and kissed my forehead. "It's never better for you not to be around."

I nodded because I felt the same way about him. "What about school? Is she going to school? Because you are, and then the two of us will be alone together. I don't know what to--"

"No," Rosalie said, entering the kitchen. "I'm not going to school tomorrow, and I don't know when I'll return. If you have a question, ask me. Don't talk about me behind my back. "

"Rosalie," I said, "it seems to upset you when I talk to you."

"I don't like when you try to comfort me. There's a difference."

I nodded in understanding. She wanted me to act like nothing had happened. I was unsure I could do that, but I'd try.

"You can take my bedroom," I told her as I grabbed my keys from the kitchen drawer. "I'm going to my dad's."

"Wait, what?" Edward said. "You're not spending the night there, are you? Bella, don't…"

"No, I'm coming back tonight. If my dad doesn't give his approval for our arrangement, I'll take your bed and you can still take the sofa. My dad works the evening shift on Sundays, so I'll be back for dinner."

"Okay. That's good."

* * *

I finally had my truck back and drove myself to my dad's. Even though it had been a few days, I was still getting used to how sensitive the new brakes were. A mere tap, and the truck lunged to a stop. The closer I got to my dad's, the more my nerves shook. Worse than what I had to ask--which was a tough question in its own right--was that, lately, it seemed every time I came for a visit, I had a favor to ask him. I wished I could put it off again, but procrastination was no longer an option. I'd made sure to give him a call before I left, though. Now that he was dating Sue, I didn't want to surprise the two of them again.

My dad was mowing the lawn when I pulled up. I gave him a wave, waddling toward him. My lower back ached, and with it came my irritation. I tried to swallow it. This was no time to be short-tempered. He told me he was almost done and that he'd see me inside.

His house was spotless; better than when I'd lived with him. There wasn't even dust on the TV. It made me wonder if Sue had cleaned, and _that_ made me wonder how often she was here.

"How ya doin', Bella?" my dad said, wiping his brow, then offering me a sweaty hug.

"Are you getting serious with Sue?"

"What makes you ask that?" He frowned and stepped back, his hands sliding into his back pockets.

"Everything is so clean."

He laughed. "You're too observant." It wasn't a straight answer, but I decided not to push the subject. "You look well," he said. "Getting pretty big, huh?"

"You noticed." I couldn't hide my sarcasm, but caught myself in time to stop any further rude comments. I brought my hands to my stomach. "I mean, yeah, baby's growing."

"And your friend, Rosalie, how is she doing?"

"You've heard?"

"Bella, I'm Chief of Police, and sometimes you forget how small this town is."

"She isn't handling it well at all. She's staying at the Cullens' for a few days."

"Poor little thing." He bowed his head, shaking it back and forth, his hands on his hips.

"Let's sit down," I said. And that was all I said. I didn't look at him, either. I looked at my knees, the floor, picked at a loose seam on the edge of the couch.

"Bella. You're nervous. You want something."

"No. I mean…what I want is um…your permission for something."

He laughed. "You've never asked my permission for anything, and now that you're living elsewhere you need my permission? What is it? Do I have to sign something?"

I covered my face and shook my head laughing. "Dad." I looked at him. "Edward and I want to…I want to…"

"What do you want to do?"

"Share a room…together." My words spewed forth then, tumbling so fast, one on top of the other, that it wouldn't have been surprising if they were unintelligible. "Because, you know, the baby will be here soon, and it would be easier if we were in the same room for late night feedings and changes, and Rosalie would be able to take my room for the few days she's staying there. So, what do you think? If you think, no, that's fine, but I'm almost eighteen anyway, so…"

"Bella. This isn't a question you can ask your dad. You're my little girl. The answer to this question will always be, no. It doesn't matter if you're seventeen or thirty-seven. As far as I'm concerned, you will always have your own room wherever you live. You've moved out. You're having a baby. You're engaged. At this point, I think you're going to have to make your own decisions."

"So is that a yes? Carlisle and Esme need a yes."

"You tell Carlisle and Esme that I said I trust you to make your own decisions."

"Okay."

"Because some things between a father and daughter are on a need-to-know basis."

I nodded. And then things got uncomfortably silent again so my fingers continued to make the loose couch seam worse. I couldn't even distract myself by offering my dad a beer because he would be on duty tonight.

Finally, he broke the silence by asking how my truck was running, and we talked for a good twenty to thirty minutes about my truck, Arnie, and how long it took to fix it.

* * *

Esme and Carlisle were at Rosalie's house while Rosalie was at theirs. She and Edward were eating dinner when I returned, neither of them speaking. Rosalie's hair hung over the back of her chair in messy, tangled waves. I'd never seen it like that and wanted to brush it for her.

"Bella." Edward said, standing up to take my hand and lead me around the counter. "Are you hungry? It's just KFC tonight."

On the other side of the counter, I looked into his eyes and nodded. He knew it wasn't an answer to his question about dinner and smiled at me, embracing me, kissing my face and neck until we both laughed and Rosalie looked over the counter at us. We stopped. Edward loaded my plate with chicken, corn and mashed potatoes, and I sat with them, eating, sharing in their silence.

Rosalie hadn't taken but three bites when she announced she was finished and asked permission to take a bath. I followed her upstairs, handed her a towel from the linen closet and started her bath water for her.

"Are you going to undress me, too?"

I didn't answer. If she had been the old Rosalie, I would have given her a sarcastic 'yes'. Instead, I left the room, closing the door behind me, then pressed my ear against it, listening. I waited to hear crying or sniffling. If she was going to cry, I would make sure she wasn't alone, whether she liked it or not. No sounds came, so I went back downstairs.

Edward had already put the leftover food in the fridge and cleaned up his and Rosalie's places, but he sat with me while I finished eating. I peeled the too-greasy chicken skin off and tossed it aside on my plate.

"Emmett came over earlier," Edward said. "Rosalie cursed me out for letting him in. Other than that, she's been quiet. I've never seen her this quiet. What should I do for her? I don't know, Bella."

"I think you're doing it, Edward. She doesn't want anyone but you to offer her comfort. She takes it when she needs it. That's all you can do."

He nodded. "So your dad said yes?"

"More or less. He said it was up to me."

"It was that easy?"

"I didn't say it was easy. It was awkward as hell, but I'm glad it's over, and I'm glad we never have to sleep alone again."

"Me too." His hand came to my forearm. "Bella, I need to talk about something, but I don't want to upset you."

"Talk to me," I said.

He stared at me as if trying to make a decision, his thumb caressing the inside of my arm. "Have you ever tried a cigarette?"

I frowned at him, unsure of what he was getting at. Did he want to smoke? Then I was surprised we didn't know this about each other. As well as I knew Edward, there was always more to learn. "No. Have you?"

"Yes. Rosalie and I tried it when we were thirteen."

"Okay. Is that what you wanted to talk about? Is this some sort of confessional or something?" I laughed, but he didn't. He was entirely serious.

"No." He drew his hand from my arm and sat back in his chair. "Irina was six years older than us, and she smoked. Rosalie stole a cigarette from her sister's purse and we took it out back to try it. I took the first drag, and then she took a drag and started coughing. Irina seemed to come out of nowhere, yelling at us and breaking our cigarette. She went on and on about how we were too young, and didn't we know they caused cancer. Did we want to die of cancer like their grandma?"

He paused, and I nodded, urging him to continue.

"Rosalie ran into the house, dumped her sister's purse out on the sofa, took every last cigarette, broke them all and flushed them down the toilet. Irina was yelling at her again, but she yelled back that Irina smoked every day, and did _she_ want to die of cancer?

"I followed Rosalie out back again. She sat on the cement for a long time. I almost left, but then she asked me how I thought I would die. I told her I had no idea. She asked why people had to go through death like that. Why couldn't everyone just die in their sleep--fall asleep, and never wake up."

"Do you think this is on her mind?" I asked.

"I know it is. She reminded me of it at the hospital this morning. She asked me why she bothered tearing up her sister's cigarettes in the first place, if she was just going to end up…" He looked down, squinted and bit his lip as if in pain.

"What?" I took his hand. "End up what?"

"Killing her, anyway." He covered his eyes with both of his hands, holding them there as he spoke. "I'm sorry I told you, Bella. I had to get it out. I couldn't keep it in any longer."

I pulled his hands from his face. "It's okay, Edward. I'm okay. You should be able to talk to me about anything."

He squeezed my fingers. "Why can't I get her to fucking understand that it's not her fault?"

"I don't know. How would you feel if you were in that situation? I know you, Edward. You would feel responsible, even if you weren't."

"Yeah, I probably would. But she's not responsible and it wouldn't be this bad if her father hadn't--Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't have been better if her father had died in the accident instead of Irina. I know that sounds disgusting, but everything is so much worse because of him."

"Who knows? Maybe he's feeling the same way." I moved to Edward's lap. He had to scoot his chair farther from the table to make room for me. I took his hands and placed them on my stomach. "When I'm upset, this makes me feel better. Touching baby. Touching Masen."

He gave me a little laugh, bent down to kiss my stomach, then rested his cheek there. "You're right," he said, "it does make me feel better. You, and Masen."

We spent a few moments relaxing against each other before we cleared the table, washed the dishes, and headed upstairs. Rosalie was out of the bathroom, and my bedroom door was closed.

Edward tapped his knuckle on the door. "Rose? Let me know if you need me."

There was no answer so we continued to his room, now our room, and we both smiled. It was strange to feel happy for us and sad for Rosalie at the same time.

We readied ourselves for bed, brushed our teeth together in his bathroom, spit together in the sink, then snuggled up in the center of the bed, where we could stay all night without worry of waking up alone in the morning.

"Welcome to my bed," Edward said, running a hand down my hair.

"Thank you."

"Are you comfortable?"

"Even with a stomach larger than a watermelon, I'm more comfortable than I've been in a long time."

"Do you miss your cloud?"

"You're my cloud. Besides, you'll bring my cloud in here when Rosalie doesn't need it."

He laughed. "Yes, I will. Goodnight, my Bella."

"Night."

I had just begun to drift off when there was a knock at the door.

"Are you awake?" It was Rosalie's voice, hushed and raspy. We both answered yes, and sat up. She opened the door and stood there like a statue. "I can't sleep. It's so dark and quiet when my eyes are open, but when I close them, it's too loud."

"What's too loud?" Edward asked.

"My mind."

"Come here," he said, patting the bed beside him. She closed the door and sat down. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." Her back was to him, her legs hanging over the side of the bed, her neck bowed.

He put a hand on her shoulder and I saw her grasp it, holding it there, then resting her head against it.

"Are you tired?" he asked.

"Yes."

"But you can't sleep?"

She didn't answer.

"Do you want to sleep in here with us?"

She didn't answer again. Edward guided her to lie down, her head on his pillow. He covered her up, and she held the covers around her as he brushed hair off her face. "Get some sleep, Rose. Bella and I are right here, and we love you. There's nothing to worry about."

He turned to face me, scooted close, and shared my pillow. "You okay?" he whispered.

I nodded.

"You sure?"

I nodded again. He didn't need two of us to worry about. His hand came to my face and he kissed the bridge of my nose. "You mean everything to me," he whispered. We fell asleep like that, his lips still right between my eyes.

An hour passed, maybe two, and Rosalie spoke again, waking us both. "Edward." She whispered it first, then spoke a bit louder, "Edward, it's too quiet. Too fucking quiet."

"Rosalie…" he turned to face her. "Are you sure you don't want to talk?"

I was still lying down, and couldn't see Rosalie over Edward. I brought my hand to his back, offering comfort the only way I could. "

Rose," he said, "do you remember the day we met?"

He didn't wait for her to answer--she most likely wouldn't have, anyway.

"Your family came over for dinner, and the first thing you said to me was that we could never be friends because boys stink. I told you I didn't stink, but you said that only girls can smell it. For a while, I believed it was a possibility--that boys gave off some stench only girls could smell. I was afraid to get too close to you that night; I didn't want you to smell me. But after dinner, you came up to me and sniffed my shoulder. You said, 'You don't smell so bad.' I understood that was your way of telling me that we _could_ be friends. Do you remember that?"

This time, he waited for her answer, but it never came.

"You called me Edward Cullen for the longest time. Until you were about nine, I think. It was like you needed to differentiate me from some other Edward. You'd say, 'Edward Cullen, get over here,' and I would. I don't know if it was you, or the way you said my name, but I did whatever you told me to do."

"Not play with my dolls," Rosalie said, and her voice seemed to stun Edward into silence. The room was quiet for a bit--only the sounds of our breathing.

"That's right," he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. "No way could you get me to play with your dolls. It made you so mad, you threw them at me."

He paused again, as if waiting for another response, then turned back toward me when the response never came. I smiled at him because his story touched me. I wasn't sure if he could see my smile in the dark, so I brought my hand to his chest, where he covered my hand with his. He rested his head on my pillow again, but before we fell asleep, he asked Rosalie one more question: "Is it still too quiet?"

"Yes."

Edward climbed out of bed and put in a CD. It was Debussy, just like the time I'd had my breakdown, seven months ago.

That night, the first night Edward and I officially had permission to share a room together, we shared it with Rosalie. I fell asleep in Edward's arms, but I couldn't be sure if either one of them slept at all.

* * *

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	7. Comfort

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

**Thank you for reading. :)  
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* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 7: Comfort

In the morning, I awoke to green eyes staring down at me. "You're watching me sleep?"

"It's calming to me."

"Where's Rosalie?"

"She went back to your room before the sun came up. I'm sorry she slept with us on our first night."

"Don't worry about it, Edward. She needs you."

"You need me, too. You told me so, in your sleep." He drew a finger down my nose.

"I did? What did I say?"

"You said, 'Don't leave me, Edward. I need you.' Do you think I'm going to leave you? I never will. I know this isn't easy on you, having Rosalie become a part of our dynamic to this extent. I keep imagining what it must be like for you. If you had a guy best friend to help through something like this, I'm not sure I could be as gracious as you."

"Rosalie doesn't think she has anybody else, and she's my friend, too. Edward, don't feel torn between us, okay? I understand that you have to help her. I'm not questioning your commitment to me at all. It was just a dream."

"Why are you so perfect?" He kissed me.

"I'm not."

"Yes...you are." He kissed me again.

"Did Rosalie hear me?"

"She could have. I don't think she slept."

I covered my face.

"Don't be embarrassed. I dream about you, too. And considering my dreams, it's better that I don't talk in my sleep."

I laughed, and he hugged me. "You're in my bed," he said. "Our bed."

"And I've been here all night."

He kissed my throat and my neck and behind my ear. "And you will be every night."

"You have to get ready for school," I breathed.

"Mmm…Bella, your voice. You like this?" His kisses traveled down my neck to my collarbone.

I pushed him away. "You know I do. Don't tease me."

He kissed my lips before getting up and pulling on a shirt. "Come on. Let's check on Rose."

We found Rosalie downstairs at the kitchen table. Esme was making scrambled eggs for all of us and talking cheerily. She reminded me of June Cleaver or Donna Mills the way her hair was all done up, and she was already dressed in a pressed skirt, blouse and heels for work. None of the rest of us had even showered yet.

Edward and I brought our chairs close together and sat in each other's arms like we used to do at school. What had happened to Rosalie's family had instilled in us a constant need to be close. His hand was on my stomach, feeling baby's every movement.

When I chanced a glance at Rosalie, I couldn't look away. The circles under her eyes were darker, deeper, and her expression blank. It broke my heart to see her like this. I wanted to hug her so badly, but she would never accept it from me, so I hugged Edward, who squeezed me back.

None of us talked about Rosalie spending the night in our bed, but she continued to sleep with us for the next two nights. She always began the night in my old room, trying to sleep alone, but she ended up in Edward's bed before midnight. The second night, she knocked timidly like she had the first time, but on the third night, she tiptoed in, careful not to wake us, even though Edward and I were both awake. And each time she climbed into bed, he whispered the question, "Are you okay, Bella?" I nodded, and he kissed me and told me I was everything. We fell asleep with our breath in each other's faces.

The morning of her sister's memorial, Rosalie refused to go. We couldn't reason with her because she would start yelling and cursing, and witnessing Rosalie like that was worse than her silence.

Up in his room, his lower body wrapped in a towel, Edward suggested that I stay home with Rosalie instead of attending the memorial. "I don't want to see you upset or sad, anyway," he said.

I agreed. I was the only one who had never met Irina, and who wasn't very close to Rosalie's family, so I stayed for Rosalie.

I walked Edward to his car to kiss him goodbye. The late morning sun was hidden, as usual, and the dark clouds threatened rain, as usual. "Keep your distance from her," he said. "You're here in case she needs you, but you're not obligated to fill her void. I don't want her flipping out on you. I'll be back right after the service, okay?"

He was so worried about how the stress might affect my pregnancy that I couldn't argue with him, and I intended to do exactly as he asked. I nodded and tugged on his tie. I didn't want to let go. He brought his hand to mine and gently pushed down until his tie slipped through my fingers. He rested his face against mine, our noses touching. "I'll be back soon, Bella. I have to go now."

I nodded against his forehead, tears forming in my eyes. I wished I could keep them hidden, because it was difficult enough for him to leave Rosalie on this day, of all days; he didn't need me adding to his guilt. He stepped back and stared down at me. "Are you going to be okay?"

I nodded again, holding my breath and forcing my tears back.

"You're not speaking."

"Go," I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. "You'll be late."

He got into his car, shut the door, giving me one last glance before he drove away. I turned around and let my tears spill. I couldn't imagine what Rosalie must have been feeling, and she wasn't allowing me to help her through it. I was imprisoned by the bars she had put up between us. My constant need to comfort her, convince her that none of this was her fault had formed a knot in my stomach. That knot grew tighter and thicker every time I saw Rosalie's expressionless face. The wind picked up and blew against my back, as if pushing me toward the house.

I was drawn to Rosalie--closed up in my old room. I held my ear to the door like I'd done a few nights ago as she'd taken a bath. Again, only stifling silence was on the other side. I opened it slowly and peeked in. The silk curtains were drawn, but even through the darkness I could see that she was asleep, clutching one of her sister's maternity dresses to her face. Despite my promise to Edward, I was compelled to go to her. I lay down on the bed, placing a hand on her arm, with a light squeeze. In her sleep, she brought a hand to cover mine. I remained there like that until I felt her stir, then I left the room as quietly as I'd entered.

Rosalie didn't exit my room until Edward returned. But he didn't come alone. Jasper and Alice entered behind him, and Emmett, behind them. They were all so quiet that, as we descended the stairs, neither Rosalie nor I could have known anyone else was there. I hugged Edward and kissed the side of his neck.

"How are you, love?" he asked, returning my hug.

I couldn't say I was fine, so all I said was, "You're back."

Alice was the only person who said anything to Rosalie.

"The service was beautiful," she said, taking Rosalie's hands. Rosalie drew hers away and turned to Edward, who released me with a kiss and went to her, and led her to the far corner of the foyer. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his shoulder, facing the wall.

The rest of us left them and took seats around the living room. I sat on the sofa with Alice and Jasper, while Emmett sat in the chair.

"No change?" Emmett asked.

"No," I said.

We all followed his gaze to the foyer, where Edward was still holding Rosalie. He turned back to me. "How can you stand that? Fuck. I can't watch this--I'm going to have to go. I should be here for Rose, but it's not like she wants me around, anyway."

"She doesn't want any of us around," Jasper said. "It's not just you."

"It's not just me," he scoffed. "I'm only in love with her, that's all. In love with her and not allowed to touch her."

"Emmett," Alice said, but he interrupted her.

"I've got to get out of here." He headed toward the door, but couldn't seem to leave without addressing Rosalie. "Rose," he said. She stepped slowly away from Edward, bringing her eyes to Emmett's shirt, refusing to look at his face. "I'm here when you need me, but until then, I'll stay out of your hair. I won't like one second of it, but I'll keep my distance." He reached out to touch her cheek, but she backed away. He left without another glance.

That night she spent the whole night in my old room, and the night after that, six days after her sister's death, she returned to her house.

Rosalie no longer took care of her appearance. She simply wore jeans and tees, her hair in a ponytail, and no makeup. She had become the new me at school--or so I gathered. Not to suggest she didn't still look beautiful. Her beauty was quieter now, and so was she.

Edward told me she refused to go to lunch with the whole group, so he took her separately. Now that they were seniors, they were allowed off campus for lunch. He said that was the only time she talked during school hours, when it was just the two of them.

Emmett had become a shell of himself, as well. He'd dropped all of his interests. including mind-wrestling.

"It's never been this impossible to get him engaged in a conversation about our president," Edward said from his desk when I'd distracted him from studying with my questions. "I even asked him if he believed in other worlds. All he did was shrug his shoulders, so I asked him if when you tripped, did he think you were tripping over people from another dimension. Because, seriously, Bella, sometimes you trip over nothing."

"I know," I said. "What did he say to that?"

"Nothing. Actually, he changed the subject. He said that he wished Rosalie would scream at him again. She gives him nothing but silence now and he can't stand it."

To make matters worse for both Emmett and Rosalie, rumors were already flying around school. The first one, of course, was that Rosalie was pregnant and Emmett had kicked her to the curb. The other was that Rosalie and Edward were having some sort of secret relationship. I stopped asking about the rumors after I heard that one.

Edward continued to bring Rosalie to the Cullens' house after school. Sometimes she talked to me, other times, not at all. I always tried to let her set the pace.

Today, I was getting my knees muddy in the garden, pulling weeds. Rosalie joined me in silence and helped. It didn't seem to bother her that her pants were muddy, too. Edward was at work, so it was just the two of us. I caught her eye once and smiled, but she didn't smile back. Eventually, the inevitable mid-September rain chased us both back into the house. By that time, I was so uncomfortable with the silence that I had to make some noise. I went to Edward's room, grabbed a book from the shelf, and brought it down to Rosalie who was wiping the mud off her jeans with a wet paper towel in the kitchen.

"Here," I said, handing her the book. " I know we talked about _The Sun Also Rises_, but I'm not sure you ever got a chance to read it. Take my copy."

She took the book from me and squinted at it, touching the cover like she was trying to figure out if it was real or not. "Thanks," she said, walking away from me, into the living room. I let her go. It seemed that was the most I was going to get from her today.

After dinner, while Edward was driving Rosalie home, I waited for him in bed. He entered, took off his shirt like a good boy, and lay with me, his arm over my stomach. He gave me a squeeze and a kiss. "She's getting better."

"How do you know?"

"Because when we talk now, she often initiates the conversation. I don't have to work as hard at it."

"Yeah, but she really only talks to you."

"Still, it's an improvement. Plus, she talked about her sister and our baby on the way home."

"She did?"

"Yeah. She told me that the safest place for the carseat is in the back."

"My truck doesn't have a back."

"I know, that's why I think we should switch cars."

"Really?"

"Maybe we should switch now. That truck is huge compared to you. I don't even know how you're climbing up into it anymore with this stomach of yours."

"Okay, so switching cars for the baby and my stomach. What else did Rosalie say?"

"She told me that her sister used to read to her baby while she was pregnant. It's supposed to stimulate the baby's brain and help it get to know your voice. Can I read to your stomach?" He laughed. "Or would that be weird?"

"Go ahead." I glanced over at his bookshelf. "What are you going to read? _Crime and Punishment _or _War and Peace_?"

"I was thinking of something less dark like _The Velveteen Rabbit_."

"But that's all the way in the other room. Are you going to leave?"

"I'll be right back."

When he returned with the book, he sat on the bed, lifted my shirt and studied my stomach. Then he put one hand on either side of it. "Look at that. Your stomach looks like a separate entity. Your legs are thin." He grabbed hold of my thigh with one hand. "Your arms are spindly." He lifted my arm. "I don't know how you keep from falling over whenever you try to stand up."

"Don't call my arms spindly."

"They are…" he kissed up and down my arm. "…beautifully, perfectly, spindly."

I pulled my arm away and pretended to pout even though I already missed his lips against my skin.

He laughed, then grew serious. "Give me you hand." He took my hand, linking our fingers together. "Are you happy, Bella?"

"With you, I am."

"What about without me?"

"What do you mean?" I tried to tug my hand from his, but he held it tighter. I stopped tugging, unsure why I'd begun the action in the first place.

"I mean when I'm at school or work. Are you happy in general?"

"It's a hard time to be happy, Edward. But considering everything the universe has thrown at us, I'm happy with where I am."

"With me."

"Yes, with you! Why? I don't get what you're trying to say."

"Ever since the accident, I've been thinking about how fast a life can be taken away. It's easy to think of life as neverending. I've always felt like we would be together forever. But we don't have forever." He kissed the back of my hand.

"We have now."

"I know. That's why I want to make sure you're happy."

"What about you? Are you happy?"

"See this?" He lifted our linked hands. "See how we fit together? This makes me happy. No one else fits me like you do."

"How do you know? Have you tried? Someone else's hand might fit in yours just like mine."

"I'm not talking about just your hand. This hand is attached to this arm…" He moved his hand up my arm, "And this shoulder…and this chest…and this heart." He put his hand over my heart, then kissed my lips. "It's all a perfect fit," he said against my lips.

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"I miss having sex with you."

"Me too. You don't know how much I want you. I need to feel close to you--as close as possible. God, Bella. Maybe we could just…try."

I looked into his eyes. They were a darker green and a little wet--I could see his desire. That desire worked like a force. I raised my head as he lowered his and our lips crashed together.

"Maybe we can forget about baby for a little while," I said, as his lips moved to my throat.

"Maybe we can," he said, lifting off my shirt. His hand ran down my stomach and he kissed it, but Masen moved and Edward's kisses slowed. "I'm sorry, Bella. I can't forget. It's too weird."

"I know." I guided his face back to mine and kissed him, then I pushed against his chest until he was on his back. "Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Because I said so." I covered his eyes with my hand and kissed his lips, gave him my tongue until I heard him moan, and then I kissed down his neck, his chest, his stomach, lower. I looked up at Edward looking down at me, his eyes still deep with desire--maybe more now. I pushed his boxers down and touched him--first with my fingers, then with my whole hand, then with the tip of my tongue, then with my mouth.

His hands clutched my hair. "Bella. B-Bella…"

I couldn't answer him because my mouth was full and I wasn't going to pause for a second. If he said anything else, it was incoherent anyway, until all I heard were Edward's groans, and I smiled and didn't pull my mouth away until he was completely finished. I rested my cheek against his heaving stomach, my head rising with each of his breaths.

He took my arms and lifted me up to his face, kissing my forehead, my cheek, my chin, my throat. "I love you so fucking much," he said.

"I know. I love you just as much."

"I know," he said and laughed. "What about you?"

"Nothing about me. I'm satisfied pleasing you." I meant the words. After everything he'd been through in the last two weeks, he deserved a night that was only for him.

"Bella, don't you ever tell me that you're not perfect again."

I peered down at him and told him in my mind that I wasn't perfect.

"You are," he said, as if arguing with my thoughts.

"Aren't you going to read to Masen?" I asked

"Oh, yeah." He pulled up his boxers, picked the book up from the bed, then brushed his lips against my stomach before reading the story of how toys become real. This would become a nightly routine for us--him reading to Masen until I fell asleep.

Well before morning, I woke up hot and uncomfortable. Edward's arm was too heavy over me, so I grunted and pushed it off, along with the covers, kicking them practically off the bed. I wasn't even careful not to wake Edward. His comfort was the last thing on my mind.

"What's going on?"

"I can't get comfortable. I'm supposed to sleep on my side and I keep waking up on my stomach, and now it's hot and my hair is sticking to me. My hair is too long. I can't even remember the last time I had a haircut." I groaned. "How much longer?!"

He pushed my sweaty hair off my forehead. "Only four more weeks, Bella. Can you be okay for a bit longer?"

"No! I'm ready now!" I shoved my hair off my shoulders. It was making me even hotter the way it draped over me like a blanket. I sat up and pulled my hair up off my neck. "Ugh! There's too much of it."

"Get it cut. Make an appointment."

I looked down at him. "Will you cut it? Right now?"

He sort of laughed, then frowned at me when he realized I wasn't kidding. "You want _me_ to cut your hair?"

"Yes, I do."

"It's two o'clock in the morning."

"And aside from your mom and dad, who's sleeping?"

"Are you serious?"

I didn't answer him. I got up, walked downstairs in nothing but my too-tight nightshirt, grabbed a pair of scissors from the kitchen drawer, and made my way back to Edward. I held the scissors out for him.

"Bella." He shook his head. "I don't know how to cut hair. I'll mess it up."

"It's not like I get it layered. It's just straight across. Come on." I picked up his hand and placed the scissors in it.

"These aren't even hair scissors; they're for paper."

"They're sharp. They'll cut. Please? I promise not to be a grump anymore if you do this for me."

"No more grumpy Bella?"

"Nope."

He didn't say anything.

"Okay, I'll get in the shower and get it wet for you. Meet me in the bathroom with the scissors."

The shower was a relief, the cool water brought welcomed goose bumps over my skin. No more sweat, no more discomfort. I even smiled as I washed my stomach.

"Edward," I called, as I towel dried my hair. Then I wrapped the bath sheet snug around my body and combed out my tangles. "Edward. Come on."

He was already there, wearing only his boxers, staring at me, scissors in hand. "Are you serious? You want me to do this?"

"Yes, I'm serious. It's way too long." I turned around so my back was to him. "Go ahead."

"How short do you want it?"

"You decide. Just get it off my back."

He took the comb from me and started cutting. "I can't believe I'm doing this." He laughed. "I'm so whipped. I'd do anything you ask."

"So what. I'd do anything you ask, too. Now, stop talking about it and concentrate."

He didn't stop talking. I supposed he needed to talk because he was nervous. "Your birthday is this Friday. What do you want to do?"

"No parties. Please, no party. I am not in a partying mood."

"What happened to no more grumpy Bella?"

"You're not finished yet. Besides, I said please."

"Okay, then--how about dinner? Just you and me?"

"Perfect. Are you cutting enough of it?"

"I'm cutting it to here." He touched between my shoulder blades.

"Good."

"We'll go to Port Angeles. Get you out of Forks for a night."

"And nobody else will be there? No surprises like our Cullen-house prom?"

"I promise, no one else. I won't tell anyone else where we're going."

"Okay."

"There," he said, "it's done. And don't tell anyone about this."

I ran my fingers through it and turned to face him. "Much better."

"I don't think it's even. I tried to make it even but I'm not a fucking hair stylist."

I looked in the mirror and brought both sides over my shoulders. "I can't tell." I faced him. "How does it look?"

"Beautiful. You look beautiful."

I smiled and kissed his lips. "You're my hero."

"Hey," he touched my smile. "Grumpy Bella's gone. You were right."

* * *

Alice came over a few days later and tried to talk me in to having a party. She'd say things like: "Are you sure?" or "At your party, I'm thinking of bringing you a cake shaped like the number, eighteen. Have you ever been to Mrs. Nolan's bakery? They let you taste the cakes and some of them are like…candy on the outside and the softest cake with cream filling on the inside. It's just…"

But my lovely boyfriend kept sticking up for me. "There's no party, Alice. We're going to respect eight-month-pregnant-Bella's eighteenth birthday wishes, aren't we?"

"Yes," she looked down like a disappointed five-year-old.

"We'll make up for it on your birthday, okay?" I said.

"Promise?" She looked at me with a devious smile.

"Sure. And Masen will be here by then. Can you believe it?"

"Masen? How do you know it's a boy? I thought you weren't finding out."

I gave an exasperated sigh, leaning back against the sofa. I was trying to control my temper because Alice had yet to be struck by my lightning bolt mood swings. My high from the shorter hair disappeared two days ago and the unpredictable moods were back.

"It doesn't matter if it's a boy or girl, Alice," Edward said giving her a look of warning.

"Sure, these days lots of girls have boy names."

"If it's a girl," I said, "I'll be sure to give her a really girly middle name just to please you."

She frowned. "Thanks. Um…can I get you anything, Bella?"

I covered my face. Why did her offer irritate me so much? I couldn't get past the feeling that she was being condescending, even though logic reminded me that this was Alice, genuine Alice. "No. Thank you."

"Alice," Edward said, "have you ever seen the baby move?"

"I've felt it. What do you mean, _seen_? Have you seen it?"

"Yes. It looks alien, the way the baby pushes against her skin. Bella, if Masen starts moving, show Alice."

"I'm not a display. You show her." I lifted his shirt, which I was aware made absolutely no sense.

"What?" he said and pulled his shirt down.

"See? You don't like displaying your abdomen, either."

"Okay," Alice said, standing up. "Maybe I should--"

"No," Edward said. "Just give it a few minutes. The mood will pass."

I glared at him, but he was smiling and touched my face. "Bella, I'm only kidding. We know you're uncomfortable, but it's not our fault. Well, maybe it's my fault."

I tried to suppress my laugh, and pushed against his arm. "It's all your fault." I smiled and kissed him.

"Bella's back!" Alice said and sat down on the sofa next to me.

"Told you," Edward said. "Stay for a bit, my Bella." He kissed me beneath my ear again and again, in case his words weren't enough to keep _his Bella _happy.

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	8. Eighteen

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**Thanks for reading.  
**

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 8: Eighteen

After Rosalie returned to her house last week, I'd begun saving my schoolwork for the evenings so Edward and I could work together in his room. Which meant that during the days, I had way too much time alone. I wandered the house barefoot; studied Carlisle's study; concocted sauces and seasonings in the kitchen, freezing them for later use; flipped through bad television shows, occasionally landing on a classic. Until this Monday, when I'd discovered an educational channel that offered a show called, _The Baby Story_. The show was horrifying, but I watched anyway. Every day, three episodes aired in a row, keeping me glued to the television from noon until three, waddling away only for snacks or bathroom breaks. I became addicted to watching women go through labor, give birth with or without pain relief, naturally or through cesarean section, and it all frightened me to no end. Still, I could not keep myself from tuning in every day. I ate my lunch on the sofa, eyes glued to the TV, cringing at what these women went through, and adding to my inherent fears. There were home births, water births, hospital births, umbilical cords, quadruplets, preemies, and every single one of them, at one point or another, involved screaming mothers. Watching these episodes was mind-torture for someone entering her ninth month of pregnancy, and I was doing it to myself.

On Friday, my eighteenth birthday, after my daily _Baby Story_ torture, I escaped to my room to ready myself for my date with Edward. I yanked on the best dress I had, a plain white cotton dress that was difficult to get into. Even though I knew I couldn't get through the night without staining the dress, it was better than any of the dresses dripping in pastel florals that only made me ill on sight. Why is it that designers seem to assume that just because you're having a baby you want to dress like one, too?

Edward waited for me downstairs and when I entered the living room, he told me I looked beautiful. I touched my hair, which at this point in my pregnancy seemed to be my best quality.

"You look handsome," I said. "I look like a marshmallow."

He was almost too good looking in his black slacks, white shirt, top few buttons undone, and no tie. His hair was a perfect mess and his green eyes stood out under dark eyebrows. For the first time, I actually felt insecure standing next to him. I didn't know what to do with my hands, so I touched his arm.

"Bella." He put an arm over my shoulders and kissed my cheek. "You're so pretty."

I laughed, reminded of the strange conversation I'd had with him a few months ago about whether or not I was 'pretty' enough for him.

"Don't argue with me," he said. "Just thank me."

"Thank you."

In the car, Edward asked if I was comfortable enough for the long ride to Port Angeles. Raindrops splashed against the windshield so hard and fast, that I wondered how he could even see through it.

"Did you just ask me if I'm comfortable? No, I'm not. I'm never comfortable. But I can't wait to get out of Forks. Slow down."

I felt the car slow as he eased up on the pedal. "Sorry. It's hard to drive slow."

"You're not driving slow. You're driving the speed limit."

He laughed. His sense of humor was a godsend, and probably the only thing that kept us from fighting when I went Ms. Hyde on him. It was strange; I was aware my behavior was irrational, but it I couldn't stop myself. Late pregnancy was another form of psychosis.

The hostess at the restaurant was not discreet in her ogling of my fiancé, gluing her eyes to Edward without even the slightest glance in my general direction. I couldn't blame her, really, but it still angered me. She touched his shoulder once we were seated, offering to get _him_ a drink.

"Bella?" he asked.

"Just water," I grumbled.

"Two waters," he told her, without taking his eyes off me. I smiled at him.

After letting us know that our server, Dan, would be with us shortly, our hostess hovered longer than necessary before Edward cleared his throat.

"At least our server is a man," I said.

"Why?"

"Because girls don't know how to act normal around you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you notice how the hostess couldn't stop drooling all over you? You should check your sleeve and make sure she didn't drip saliva on your shirt."

"I didn't notice anything but you, Bella."

"Right," I said, picking up my menu, but before I opened it, I studied the pink silk carnation in the vase. "If they're going to use fake flowers, why don't they go with a better one?"

Edward set his menu down. "What did you have in mind?"

"Something…exotic. These are boring."

"They're probably more affordable." He touched the petals.

"It's dusty," I said.

"You're so different," he laughed. "Where's Bella?"

"Sorry. I'll try to behave."

"No. This is the only glimpse I get of what it might be like for you." He took my fingers. "Just, try to have a good time. It's your eighteenth birhday."

Throughout dinner, I got up to use the restroom at least three times. Maneuvering between the close-set tables and interrupting the same people's meals over and over to ask them to "pardon me," was not my worst problem. While washing my hands in the restroom, a woman came up to me. Dressed in a gray suit, she appeared to be in her mid-thirties, with short blond hair and too much lipstick. She looked horrified when she saw my stomach and realized that it belonged to a teenage girl.

"Are you pregnant out of wedlock?"

_Do people under sixty use the term 'wedlock'? _I wanted to ask. Instead I asked, "Do I know you?"

She put her hand on my stomach and I tried to step back, but I lacked the ability to walk through walls. Pressed against the tile, with her cold hand still on my stomach, I pursed my lips at her. "I'm uncomfortable when people touch me."

She took her hand away but I could still feel it. She hadn't dried her hands properly after washing and left a damp handprint on my dress. "Are you aware this is a sin? You are young and misguided." She reached into her bag and shoved a pamphlet at me, titled, _Jesus Saves_. "This will help you. Nowlisten, you have been introduced to the love of God. He will forgive you for your sins; do not turn your back on Him."

I gave her back the pamphlet. "I have God in my heart. I don't need this." I walked away from her, back to Edward where I refused to sit down again.

"Can we go?"

He stood up. "Why? Are you sick? Did I do something?"

"I just want to go. Right now."

He frowned. "I have to wait for the bill. Sit down."

"No." I looked toward the bathrooms and saw that woman coming out--heading toward me. I closed my eyes and hoped she wouldn't stop at our table.

"Bella? What happened?"

I opened my eyes and there she was.

"Did she tell you about Him?" she asked Edward.

Edward tugged on my arm so I was closer to him and farther from her. "Tell me about who? Did something happen to her in the bathroom?"

"Yes." I felt his hold on my arm tighten. "In the restroom, she turned away from God…by _choice_."

I looked up at Edward, who was looking down at me. He was giving me his stare and I needed it. I held his gaze and spoke through my teeth. "If she doesn't go away, I swear to _her_ god I will scream at her." His eyes left mine.

"We're not interested. Leave us alone."

"Take this," she said, handing him the same pamphlet. "From one of God's children to another. It's not your fault. Not everyone has someone to teach them." Edward took it and she left. He set the pamphlet on the table without even looking at it, and brought me to the hostess stand where we waited for our bill. This time, I didn't notice if the hostess eyed Edward or not.

Once the bill was paid, we released ourselves into the night. The rain had stopped but the sky was not clear enough to let much of the moonlight through.

"Why do people think that just because you're a pregnant teen they can judge you, insult you, and touch you?"

He stopped walking. "She touched you?"

"She touched my stomach just before she called me a sinner."

He put a hand behind my neck, bringing my forehead to his lips, then rested his forehead against mine. "I don't know what is _wrong _with people. How can I make your night better?"

I reached up, touched his scruffy cheek, and smiled. "You already have."

He smiled back and kissed me. "I can't stand to see people disrespect you. I have to say, though, I was relieved when she mentioned God. You can't imagine what I was thinking when she asked if you told me about _him_."

"What were you thinking?"

"Hundreds of scenarios must have raced through my mind. Believe me, you don't want to know. Just know the reality of what happened is one million times better." He kissed me. "One million times." He kissed me again and held my face tight so I couldn't break the kiss. Not that I wanted to.

He drove us to the park where we'd first confirmed I was pregnant. We hadn't been back since. Just like on that Valentine's night, we sat together on the swings, and I discovered how much less comfortable it was to sit on a swing when your stomach took over your lap. We held hands between the swings. After all this time, we still had this need to touch. _All this time_. It really hadn't been that long at all. "Edward, isn't it weird that we haven't even been together a year. This time last year, we barely knew each other. I was the new girl and you were the gorgeous guy who didn't date."

"You were the beautiful new girl, and I was the guy waiting for you. But that is weird. I feel like you've been in my life forever."

"Me too. And our baby, if God does have any love for us at all, might be here before our one-year anniversary."

"When would you say our anniversary is? The day we went to the beach, or the night of our first kiss?"

"Well, we were just friends for a while after the beach, before we kissed. So officially, I guess it would be homecoming night. Besides, you did urge me to go to the dance with Mike, so I am not calling any day before that part of our relationship."

"You still remember that? I was only kidding. I knew you weren't interested in Mike, and I wanted to see your reaction. I honestly didn't mean it."

"When you said it, a part of me did question how you felt about me. I was convinced there was nothing but friendship between us."

"What a mistake that would have been," he said.

"Oh, and I wanted to hit you."

He laughed. "I wouldn't have blamed you. And as long as we're talking about hitting people, I wanted to hit Jacob Black that night at the pub. The way he laughed at that memory of you breaking your arm, and then he tried to pick up on you right in front of me."

"He didn't pick up on me."

"If you say so."

"I do. You tickled my elbow that night."

"When?"

"When we were waiting for our drinks. You had your arm around me and were tickling my elbow. It was the first time you touched me like that."

"Damn. I don't remember. I constantly wanted to touch you back then, and I had to restrain myself whenever we were close. I must have lost the battle that night." He gave me his half-smile.

"You always wanted to touch me?"

"Jasper wouldn't shut up about it when you weren't around. Once, when you went to get brownies with Alice, he asked me what I was waiting for. He said he could feel our pull toward each other from across the room. Then you came back and showed me your teeth, wondering if you still had chocolate in them. I almost kissed you right then. A girl asking me to check her teeth? That just doesn't happen. You are like no one else, Bella."

I laughed. "I felt comfortable around you. You're the only person I would have asked. But what did take you so long to kiss me?"

"Jasper was in one ear while Rosalie was in the other, and you can guess what she was saying. Also, Jasper may have felt your attraction toward me, but that didn't prove that you had any real feelings for me. I had to wait until the time was right for us."

I nodded. "So was it the accidental kiss in class that proved Jasper right?"

"Well, that kiss was what made me determined to win you over if I hadn't already, but it was really your reaction to the kiss. You looked shocked and embarrassed, and so beautiful. For a second, your face was red, then you jumped on me and called me husband, and I swear, having you in my arms like that…I didn't want to let go. Even after you were gone, I could still feel you and smell you. You were so small, I felt like I could wrap my arms around you twice."

"Not anymore," I said, my hand on my stomach.

"But you're still beautiful, and you still smell good."

I smiled and looked down at my hand.

He pushed his swing toward me and brought his fingers to my cheek. "And sometimes, you still blush for me."

I closed my eyes and leaned against his hand.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked.

"Are you kidding? It feels good being out here. I'm always so hot." I looked up at the sky. "Wouldn't it be nice if we could actually see stars and constellations?"

"Close your eyes and I'll tell you what constellations we'd be able to see if the night was clear."

I closed my eyes. "Okay, but how do I know you're not making it up?"

"Because I'm taking Astronomy, and I'm smart. Keep your eyes closed. Now, imagine four stars forming a square and then about nine stars or so following each other in a sort of long zigzag pattern. That's Draco the dragon. Do you see it?"

"I guess so."

"Okay…imagine to the far right of that, about five stars forming a sort of wide "w". That's Cassiopeia, she's supposed to be looking into a mirror because she's beautiful and vain."

"I've heard of that one."

"Here's one that can only be viewed this time of year. There's a big square forming a body, followed by a line of stars forming a neck and head and then lower, two more similar lines of stars that form legs. This is harder to see because you'd actually be looking at it upside down. It's Pegasus and the two legs are its front legs, kind of like it's leaping. I don't know." he laughed. "Someone really must have wanted to see it."

"I can see the images, but I have no idea if I'm seeing the stars. Are they twinkling?"

"In your mind, yes."

"Can I open my eyes now?"

"No, not yet. Keep them closed. Promise?"

"Sure…" but I couldn't finish the word because his lips were on mine and his tongue was inside my mouth and his hands were pulling on my shoulders. My arms reached up around his neck. "Keep them closed," he said. He took one of my hands down from his neck placed something in it and said, "Open."

I opened my eyes and looked down at a round ball wrapped in gold foil. "What is this?"

"It's your present."

I pulled the foil open. "Chocolate?"

He nodded. "Come on." He led me by the hand to a nearby picnic table. "You have to smash the ball on the table."

"But it'll break."

"I know. Go ahead."

I smashed it down and the ball broke apart in perfect slices.

"It's called a chocolate orange. Eat it."

I put a slice in his mouth and another in mine. "This is my present?"

He nodded, crunching on the chocolate slice. "Yeah, don't you like it? I knew you wouldn't want me to get you a real present because you're weird."

"It's chocolate. I get to smash it, and then eat it in little sliced segments. I love it! Can we get more? I want to smash some more."

"I'll get you one for Christmas."

"Here." I put another slice in his mouth.

"They taste strange," he said.

"So what? They're fun." I tossed another slice into my mouth. "Hey, what did you ever do with that box of Valentine chocolates you bought with the pregnancy tests? We never ate them."

"I found them in my car after I dropped you off. I thought about giving them back to you, but I…I threw them away. I was pissed off at the world and throwing them away seemed like the thing to do."

"Did that make you feel better?"

"Not at all."

"When did you start feeling better about our situation?"

"The night you said you wanted to be happy, and that you wanted to be congratulated. It was such a relief to hear you say that. My chest had been tight for weeks, and it immediately loosened when you said that."

"And now…are you excited to meet our baby?"

Taking my hands, he brought me to his lap, wrapped his arms around my middle, and kissed my cheek. "I can't wait to meet our baby."

I rested my head against his shoulder, and hadn't realized I'd fallen asleep until I heard my name and felt his breath in my ear.

"Bella? Bella?"

"Yeah?" I didn't open my eyes.

"We should go."

"No." I tugged on his shoulder, as if that would keep him from moving.

"But you're falling asleep, love."

"I'm comfortable sleeping on you."

"You can sleep on me in our bed, okay?"

I looked up at him. "Okay. But someday can we sleep out here under the invisible stars?"

He laughed, "Sure."

On the drive home, it wasn't rain that obstructed Edward's view, it was fog settling around us as thick as cotton. The headlights reflected off the fog and stung my eyes. To my relief, Edward drove slow and I was able to relax enough to close my eyes. My bladder woke me up.

"Edward, I have to go to the bathroom."

"We're five miles away from home, can you wait?"

I hadn't gone to the bathroom since back at the restaurant, and then we were at the park for over an hour, and driving for over another hour--it was well past potty time for me. "Not really." I wiggled my legs. "Unless you want me to pee on your seat."

He pulled over and we crushed ferns under our feet on our way to a cluster of fir trees closest to the road.

"Turn around." I said. "Don't look."

He turned his back to me. "I'm not going to look," he laughed. "What's the difference, though? I see you naked almost every day."

"It's not the same." I pulled my panties down and squatted but after nearly toppling over, I grabbed onto the back of Edward's pant leg for support. He felt me tug on him and turned his head to the side. "Don't turn around," I said.

"I won't. Are you finished yet?"

"I haven't started."

"What?"

"I can't go."

"A minute ago, you couldn't hold it."

"Well, it won't come out now. Just wait. I can't control it."

He started laughing again, harder this time. "We would have been home by now."

"Stop laughing at me. You are not the one who has to squat with twenty million extra pounds on you."

"You're right. I'm sorry." But his laughter continued which made me laugh, and then finally I peed.

"It worked!"

Even after I'd relieved myself in the forest, five miles from the Cullens', we still didn't make it home. Edward turned the car around a few minutes later after receiving a phone call. "I'm on my way," he said into the phone, then hung up.

"Where are you going?"

He looked over at me, searched my eyes, then faced the road again. "That was Rosalie."

"What did she say?"

"She asked me to come over. That was all I got from her."

"You have to go to her right now? After eleven? You couldn't ask her to wait until morning?"

"She needs me."

"How do you know what she needs, if she didn't even tell you what it was about?"

"Because I know."

"How do you know?"

"I just fucking know."

"Okay."

He shook his head, his lips tight. "Bella, I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize. If she needs you, she needs you."

"Bella." He kissed my hand, then brought it with his to switch gears. "This hasn't been your ideal birthday. You wanted tonight to be just you and me. And that lady at the restaurant--

did you even finish your dinner?"

"Forget about it, it's-"

"I'm not going to forget about it. Don't act like your feelings don't matter."

"They do matter, but not as much as Rosalie's right now."

"Don't say that, Bella. I don't want to make you feel that way."

"You're not."

"This isn't fair to you!"

I frowned at him. "What's not fair?"

He stared straight ahead, too silent for too long.

"What's not fair, Edward?"

"I don't want to ruin your night, Bella. I-"

"You're not ruining it."

"Bella, let me fucking apologize to you!" He pulled the car over. "Fuck, I'm sorry. Goddamn it." He stepped out and slammed the door.

I followed him. "What are you doing? Why are you mad at me?"

He covered his face and shook his head. "I'm not mad at you. I didn't mean for it to come out like that. This situation…it's screwed up. I wanted tonight to be perfect for you. You

deserve perfection." He faced me and took my shoulders. "And now I can't give you what you deserve, and you're being understanding about it because you're amazing. But that

makes it so much harder for me to do this to you."

"Do what to me?"

"I know that the right thing to do would be for me to pick up my phone, call Rosalie, and tell her that I'll see her in the morning. Just like you said. It's your birthday. I love you, Bella, and I need you to know that that is exactly what I _want_ to do. But I can't. Until Rosalie accepts help from Emmett, or anybody else but me, I have to go to her whenever she calls me. And I can't even tell you why."

"You're confusing me. Why can't you tell me?"

He brought his hand to my stomach, bent down to kiss me through my dress, then took my face in his hands. "Because it will upset you too much." He kissed my lips. "I can't risk telling you right now. After Masen comes, I will tell you. I promise. You trust me, don't you?"

"Yes, I trust you. You're not making any sense at all right now, though."

"I know, and I'm sorry about that. But I need you to know that if I had any other choice, I would drop everything and everyone to make this night one hundred percent about you."

"Edward, I understand that Rosalie needs your help. This is affecting you more than it is me. I'm not mad or upset that you have to go to Rosalie."

"You say that, but you don't always tell me when you're upset. You like to hide your feelings. And I'm angry with myself for not giving you the only thing you asked of me for your birthday. You said you didn't want any surprises. You said, 'no one but us,' and I promised."

"It doesn't matter. Other than that freaky lady at the restaurant, this night has been perfect, Edward." I tugged on his shirt and he took a step closer to me. "The dinner, the ugly silk flowers, the park, our memories, the imaginary stars, the chocolate orange, even peeing on the side of the road. Tonight will be unforgettable; how perfect is that?"

He kissed me so deeply that he could have swallowed me if he tried. "One of these days," he said before kissing me again, "I will be the man you deserve."

"I told you before. We deserve each other." I brought my hands to his face and pulled his lips back to mine. "Edward, is it too much for you--too hard on you to be the only one helping Rosalie?"

"No." He shook his head. "It's just…the last thing I want is for this situation to hurt you. And tonight…"

"Tonight was you and me," I said. "I got what I wanted."

He took my hand. "Bella, you are far more understanding than I could have been considering the explanation I just gave you. So, even if you don't think it's necessary, let me apologize to you."

"Okay. I accept your apology. And I do know that my feelings matter, but I also know that I'm not hurting the way you and Rosalie are. Just like you want to be supportive of Rosalie, I want to be supportive of you. Can you understand that?"

He stared down at me, his hand slow to find my face, his fingers lightly touching. "Yes, I can understand that, love. It's part of the reason why I love you so much. Why I want to give you everything. And why I get frustrated with myself when I can't."

"It's not your job to give me everything. Just give me you. You're what I need." I pulled on his coat with both hands.

"You have me, Bella. You've had me for a long time."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and his arms wrapped my waist. My stomach got in the way so I turned slightly to rest my head on his shoulder. A car passed, lights shining in my eyes, reminding me that we were still on the side of the road. In Edward's arms, it was easy to forget where I was. "Should we go see how Rosalie is?" I asked.

He kissed me, then nodded, taking my hand and leading me to the car where he opened my door for me. I could have sworn I heard him apologize one more time as he shut my door.

Rosalie was waiting in the dark on her front porch, a duffle bag in hand. It was safe to assume she would be spending the night. Edward held the seat back for her and she followed her bag into the car. The only explanation she gave us was: "My dad's home…" pausing when her voice cracked, "…thank you. Happy birthday, Bella. I won't sleep in your bed with you, don't worry."

She stuck to her word, climbing the stairs and shutting herself in my old room.

In our bed, I was lying as close to Edward as my stomach would allow.

"I didn't mean to lose my mind on the side of the road tonight," he said. "Helping Rosalie can be rough, but that's not what bothers me. I worry about you. I don't understand how you can be so incredible about it. Does it honestly not upset you when she calls me away from you? Tell me the truth."

I lifted my head to look at him, as he lay on his pillow. I put a hand on his chest and rested my chin there. "Edward, to be honest, it's a little irritating that you seem to forget she's my friend, too. She may not want my help, but that doesn't mean I don't worry about her or want her to feel better. Besides, she told me once that she would do anything for you, and I understand you will do the same for her."

"Don't get confused, Bella. I care about Rosalie, and I will help her through this, but you're the only one in the world whom I would do _anything_ for. Do you understand that?"

I nodded.

"Good." He lifted my face to kiss me. "Happy Birthday, love."

"Thank you, Edward."

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**Masen is almost here, yay!  
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	9. Pressure

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 9: Pressure

Although I was able to dodge the birthday-party-bullet, I could not escape a baby shower. The baby shower swooped down on me a week after my birthday--a week filled with daily Lamaze classes and breathing exercises that plagued me with worry rather than appeasing my fears. The Saturday after Edward and I were subjected to a horrendous birthing video, my shower came right along. It brought with it an unrelenting tightness in my throat that reached my face and burned my eyes.

Even though I appreciated the waterfall of necessities for baby, I couldn't stand all the eyes on me as I opened each gift. Everyone was eagerly awaiting my reaction and I wasn't sure what that reaction should be. How many times can you say, "Thank you, I love it," before it begins to sound recycled and insincere?

"I need this," I said about a strange long tube that was apparently a contraption for disposing diapers, but appeared more like a large time capsule; and worse, it looked like something I could never learn to work. I would have preferred to drop the diaper into an open trash can. I twisted the top in circles, while trying with all of my might to swallow my own saliva.

"Yeah," Mrs. Brandon said, "You slip the diaper in, and then turn it so it seals up and keeps the stench out." I didn't tell her that I'd never even thought about the stench of diapers until that very moment. She gave me big boxes of diapers and baby wipes to go with it--my first clue that people like to give shower gifts in themes, which was nice because it kept Alice's 'what Bella needs' and 'what Bella already has' list easy to organize.

Alice was next to me on the sofa writing out names and gifts received for my thank you notes. Her enthusiasm often trumped mine, for which I was grateful. "Bella! The baby's room won't stink," she said about the diaper canister thing. I gaped at her, wondering how these comments naturally came to her. She really seemed to mean them, too. "Oh, look at the teeny, tiny booties that match the little mittens and the hat," she said. "That hat wouldn't even fit my doll."

I stretched it a bit because it did look extremely small. That made people laugh and Alice's grandma say, "I knitted it myself." Yes, Alice's grandma was here. When you don't know many people, friends' extended family members made the invitation list. So did some of Esme's colleagues. She'd told me they'd want to come for Edward. At that moment, I'd had a rush of excitement over the possibility Edward might be in attendance. No such luck.

All the women, friends and strangers, sat around me in borrowed plastic chairs. Subjected to my constant blush, they watched as I opened each present. Sue brought me a joint gift from my father and her. It was a beautiful bassinet covered in white lace, filled with clothing and baby shoes of different sizes. I began to feel increasingly hot and overwhelmed at the realization of all the things I needed that had never occurred to me. I wanted to crawl into the bassinet and curl up, but instead I smiled and said something about everything being adorable and cute, and strangely, that I was glad the clothing came with hangers.

I learned early on that people loved it when I held up every single item so that the giver could smile, while others oohed and aahed over its preciousness. Sometimes someone would even ask to see the pretty wrapping and wonder if it had been professionally gift-wrapped. I waited patiently while they worked out the details of the wrapping and the ribbon, nodding in agreement when it was declared beautiful.

Esme wheeled in a stroller and attached babyseat with a big bow on it from her and Carlisle, just before I opened my gifts from Emmett's mother. She seemed to have purchased an entire baby store. I now had bathing supplies, towels, what she called onesies and sleepers, a baby gym, rattles and books, and a "Diaper of the Month" plastic card. I looked at her, unsurprised that I needed another explanation.

"Every month for a year, that company will send you diapers. You can't imagine how many you'll use. It's really quite clever. You just go to the website if you need a different size and they'll make the adjustment in the next shipment."

How do you thank someone properly when it seemed they spent an entire year's salary on you?

"Do you know how to change diapers?" Alice asked.

I shook my head at her. This. All of this. The inexperience, the inability to even fathom how much knowledge you need regarding motherhood is exactly why teenagers aren't meant to have babies. I was getting even hotter, and it seemed to become noticeable because Esme brought me a glass of ice water, resting it against my head and cheek before handing it to me. I didn't even jump at the chill of it because it was so refreshing.

"They'll show you that at the hospital, Bella," Esme said. "The nurses will instruct you on how to bathe the baby, take the temperature, and breastfeed. Don't worry, sweetheart."

"Oh, you're going to breast feed!" Alice's mother clapped her hands together. I watched her elation in shock, as I was introduced to another aspect of motherhood I had yet to consider. There was a reason people read books about this stuff regardless of whether they read worse than a Stephen King horror. I knew I would have to open my book again.

"How about some cake?" Esme asked, putting an arm around me and waddling along with me into the kitchen.

Since Alice hadn't been allowed to get me a birthday cake, she insisted on ordering the shower cake. It was in the shape of the name 'MASEN,' all decorated in pastels, and was quite possibly the most endearing, touching, and least stress-inducing gift I'd received. I hugged her. Seeing Masen's name grounded me, reminded me of my love for my baby, and brought some of my motherly strength back.

"It's beautiful," I told her.

"Wait until you taste it," she smiled, crinkling her nose at me, an action I hadn't seen since before Rosalie's accident. I hadn''t realized I'd missed it until just then.

* * *

After Esme helped me put my gifts away in my old room that would soon be Masen's, Edward came home. Before showing him all our gifts, I brought him to the kitchen and fed him some of the Masen cake. I literally did feed him, bringing the fork to his mouth. He laughed and took a bite, leaning over the counter on his elbows.

"Rosalie's going to come see you tomorrow," he said. "She felt bad that she and her mom couldn't make it to the shower."

"That's okay. I didn't expect them to come. Did you go over there today?"

"Yeah, Irina's husband and daughter went home and Rose's dad still isn't around much. Things seemed calmer until her mother started insisting that Rosalie seek therapy."

"That's probably a good idea."

"I thought so, too. But Rosalie's resisting. She resorted back to cursing us out when we talk about it. She doesn't see that _that_ reaction is one of the reasons we're suggesting therapy."

I offered him another bite. "Mmm, this cake is so good," he said.

"Alice."

He nodded.

He took the fork from me, placed it on the plate and took my hands, looking into my eyes. "Bella, you have to tell baby not to come on the tenth."

"Why?"

"Because I have an interview with the scholarship council."

"What?!" I hit his arm and then hugged him. "Why didn't you tell me?!" As usual, I had to maneuver my belly to the side to get my face deep enough into Edward's neck to feel satisfied with the hug. I kissed him there, too. "Does that mean Jessica came through for you?"

"She did. And now she has declared us friends, too. I don't care. As long as she's respectful to you, I'll be her friend." He squeezed me once more before releasing me.

I tapped a finger against my stomach, "Masen, no coming on the tenth." I looked up at Edward. "When did you find out about the interview?"

"On Wednesday. I didn't want to tell anyone because I didn't want to somehow jinx it, but I couldn't keep it from you."

I looked away from him, back at the cake. "Did you tell Rosalie?"

He tilted my face toward him. "Bella," he paused, bringing his eyes to mine. "I didn't tell anyone. I _knew_ this situation was getting to you." He shut his eyes. "You _have_ to talk to me, Bella. Don't keep your feelings from me. Please."

"I'm not going to stand here and make you feel guiltier, Edward. I can see that you're torn, and I don't want you to be."

"And I can see that you're bothered by this, and _I_ don't want _you_ to be."

I shook my head. "It's not bothering me. Sometimes, maybe I get insecure over your close relationship with Rosalie, but I trust you. You've never given me a reason not to trust you."

"You can trust me. There's nothing beyond friendship between Rose and me--not now and not in the past. I've known her since I was seven. We grew up together; there's no attraction…at all."

"I know. And you've always given me more than I needed in our relationship; I think I can let a bit of my hold on you go if I have to." As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew they were false. I could share him with Rosalie for the time being, but I couldn't let even a small part of him go--not even a fingernail. I picked up his hand and he grasped my fingers.

"See, this is why we need to talk," he said. "The hold you have on me cannot be touched. As long as I'm alive, I'm tied to you completely. Usually, you're around when Rosalie is, but the times when I'm alone with her, or at school, I'm constantly thinking of you. I think about what you're doing, how you're dressed, what you're eating, reading, what music you're listening to. I can't get you out of my mind."

"Good, because I lied just now."

"You lied?"

"It was an accidental lie. I thought I meant it until I said it."

He smiled at me and shook his head. "I love your strangeness."

"And I love your everything."

He took my other hand. "Don't let me hurt you, Bella. Don't allow it just because you're worried about Rose."

"Edward, even if you were hurting me, what would knowing that do? Would that change anything? Would it stop you from helping her when she needs you?"

"Yes. If I'm hurting you, I'll--I don't know, I'll figure something out." His hand tangled in his hair. It stressed him out just thinking about this.

"You're not hurting me, Edward. You're giving Rosalie the help she needs and I would never ask you to stop."

"Come here, perfection." He brought me into his arms. "Promise me you'll be honest about your feelings. Don't hide them for the sake of other people."

"Okay."

"Do you promise?"

My phone rang and I welcomed the interruption as Edward handed my phone to me from the counter.

"Hello?"

"Bella."

"Mom?" My eyes shot to Edward who was staring at me, mirroring my shock.

"I got your message."

"You mean the message I left weeks ago?" I asked. Edward put a hand on my shoulder.

"Was there something you wanted to tell me?" she asked.

I told her about my future marriage plans, then squeezed my eyes anticipating another good scream-at-Bella-for-being-a-loser moment. When she did speak, it was calm and my eyes relaxed. But the soft voice turned out to be a veil for sarcasm.

"I guess you really don't have a choice, do you? You're forced to marry your first boyfriend."

"I'm not forced. It's my choice. I'm choosing Edward." I put my arm around his waist and his came around my shoulder. "I _want_ to spend the rest of my life with him. Can you understand that at all? Because I don't think you _get_ that I actually do love him."

He kissed my face and whispered, "I actually love you, too."

"You've never even experienced anyone else," my mom said.

I squeezed Edward tighter, as if he could hear my mother's words. "I don't have to. I already know."

"Bella, what you think you know, and what is reality are two different things. You probably think that your love will last forever and picture yourself in some sort of Eden-romance filled with sparkling waterfalls, flowers and rainbows."

"Well, what do you picture for me, Mom? Fiery torment where all Edward and I do is fight and he cheats on me and we divorce, becoming, once again, another fucking statistic?"

"What?" Edward said, shaking his head, as I covered my mouth with the realization that I'd just said 'fuck' to my mom. "I would never do that to you." He looked as if he was really concerned that I believed that.

"I know," I whispered, and opened my lips for his. We kissed while my mom bit back at me. It actually felt kind of good. She had no idea that instead of focusing solely on her spite, I was enjoying Edward's lips on mine, tasting cake on his tongue.

"Nice, Bella," I heard her say in the distance. "What have you become? That's a little extreme isn't it? Even from you? I'm trying to be realistic here."

I sighed and reluctantly pulled my lips from Edward. "And your Garden of Eden reference was realistic and not condescending in any way?" Edward's kiss moved down my jaw to my neck, making it extremely difficult for me to be angry at anyone.

"Bella, we're still not getting anywhere with this. I really just wanted to ask you one thing."

I waited while Edward's kisses continued.

"I want you to have someone call me when the baby is born."

"What?" I pushed away from Edward so I could concentrate again. I was sure I'd heard her wrong.

"I just want to know. Regardless of what you think of me, I still love you and I want your baby to be healthy."

"I-I'll have Edward call you." His eyebrows narrowed and I hung up the phone.

"She wants you to call her when Masen's born. And look," I held my phone toward him, "it's still alive."

He smiled. "That's good, right? She wants to know about the baby. What was that about our relationship being like hell?"

"Nothing. She basically called me idealistic and I called her pessimistic. We were just more creative with our insults." I hugged him. "She doesn't even know you. If she knew you, she would see what I see." His hands rubbed my back but he didn't say anything; we just stood like that, alone, uninterrupted, for as long as we needed.

* * *

October tenth came and went without baby. There was rain, there was wind, there was Rosalie, and there was Edward's absence as he interviewed in Port Angeles. Rosalie and I were sitting at the kitchen table, discussing book to film adaptations when the subject landed on classic romances. I took advantage of the situation, steering the conversation toward real life relationships. I spoke of Edward and myself, Alice and Jasper, while Rosalie listened.

I took a brave step and braced myself for Rosalie's wrath when I asked: "Why don't you want anything to do with Emmett anymore? He loves you so much."

She stared at me for a while. She stared so long that the strong wind shook the windows several times, and I was able to use that excuse to avert my eyes and gaze out the sliding glass door instead of into Rosalie's stare. Tree branches blew wildly and the rain pounded against the glass. Rosalie's voice startled me when she finally spoke. "It's not Emmett. I don't want anyone in my life. I took my sister's chance at happiness away. I don't deserve what she lost."

"Rosalie," I covered her fisted hands on top of the table. "You deserve it. Your sister would want it." I knew that was a risky statement considering she'd screamed at me in the past for never knowing her sister.

"I _do not _deserve it. Drop it."

"Okay, if you don't deserve it," I said, not dropping it, "what about Emmett? Doesn't he deserve happiness?"

"You're assuming that I'm his only road to happiness, Bella. No couples, not even you and Edward, _belong_ together. You _choose_ to be together because you're attracted to each other, you get along and you have common interests. It's your choice. I'm making mine. Emmett needs to make another one, and he will. He'll get over me."

"Are you planning to talk to Emmett about it?"

"Bella, you know I'm smarter than that. If I tell Emmett what I just told you, do you think he's going to accept it? He'd fight for me. He'd try to touch me." She folded her arms across her chest and rubbed her upper arms like she was rubbing off Emmett's touch.

"So, answer one more question? Please?"

"What?"

"Why do you let only Edward comfort you? We're all here for you, and we want to be, but he's the only one you'll accept help from. You even avoid Alice."

She was silent for a moment, playing with her fingers. I wondered if she would ignore the question or deny that she needed comfort. This was the most I'd gotten her to talk to me since the accident. I couldn't let her ignore it. "Why do you let Edw-"

"Look, I wish I didn't need anyone. I try to go without anyone, but my thoughts, Bella. You don't know. When I'm alone, my mind won't stop. I close my eyes, and…And Alice…" she paused, pushing hair from her face, "…lost her father the way Irina…and she thinks we have a bond that way, but I _hate_ my dad. I can't talk to her about that. She doesn't have a father and I hate the one I have. Edward is family--the closest thing I have to a brother. He's the only person I can say anything to. God, I dumped so much on him. I know I have to stop. I know that. But what else can I do? Talk to some stranger who doesn't care, who never knew my sist--who only wants to analyze everything I say? Plus with Edward, unlike Emmett, there is no risk of him falling in love with me."

"But Emmett _is_ in love with you. He wants to be here for you so badly. You can tell him anything. Just let him in, Rosalie."

I stared at her, this time not looking away even when the wind rattled the windows. "Or you can say anything to me," I tried, but it was too late. Rosalie was back in her silence. I had brought up Emmett one too many times. My eyes remained on Rosalie until she left the room, and my head fell to the table in defeat. But then I turned my face so that my cheek rested on the surface, and the daylight filled my eyes, as I realized I wasn't defeated. I had her talking about her sister, about Emmett, and she hadn't yelled or cursed. This wasn't defeat; this was progress.

* * *

On October eleventh, my dad and Sue took Edward and me out to dinner. I was enjoying Sue's presence in my father's life. She took away his loneliness and replaced it with more smiles on his face than I'd ever seen. She was nice to me and she was nice to Edward, which was more than I could say for my mother.

Edward hadn't wanted to discuss his Stanford scholarship interview because he didn't want to make a premature judgment on whether or not it would happen. His logic was that perhaps they made everyone feel good about their chances, encouraged all the applicants. At least the statement that they had encouraged him gave me something positive to grasp on to. When Sue asked him about the interview over our candlelit table I thought maybe she could get more out of him, but all he said was, "It was fine."

"I have two children from my first marriage," she said, seeming to notice Edward's discomfort with the current subject, and quickly moving the focus to herself. "My daughter is about your age and she is an angry little thing. My son is a few years younger, but he is my sweetheart. He's always smiling. I don't know how anyone can live with a constant smile, but he does it." That thought seemed to make her smile.

"It must be infectious," I said.

She said that she was really impressed with what Edward and I were doing at such a young age, and that we both seemed to have good heads on our shoulders, a level of maturity and intelligence that she could only hope for in her own children.

My dad smiled and nodded, looking at me. "Yup. These two got themselves into some trouble but they seem to be pulling through it. You've grown very much, Bella, and I'm proud of the woman you're becoming. Proud to call you my daughter."

I stared at him for just a moment too long. If I had looked away just a little bit earlier, I could have avoided the tears that fell onto my plate. "Dad," was all I could get out before I dropped my embarrassed face into my hands and tried to stop the tears. Edward's hand came around my shoulders, pulling me against his body, right where I fit perfectly under his arm. I leaned against him.

"She's so strong," Edward said, despite the fact that I was crying over my father telling me he was proud. "She calls me strong, but she can't see her own strength." He kissed the side of my face. "Bella, look at me," he whispered. I wiped my tears away and looked up at him. "You deserve this. Don't hide your beautiful face."

"If your mother could get her head out of her ass and see you now," my dad said, "she'd be proud of you, too."

I shook my head. "It's enough that you're proud of me." I went to hug him.

"Maybe I should have told you before," he said, standing up to hug me back. "Maybe I should say it more often, huh?"

"You said it now."

I rested my head against his arm and caught Sue's gaze. She was smiling with tears in her own dark eyes. This is what family felt like. Real family that I hadn't felt in too long.

I went back to my seat next to Edward, linked my fingers with his, and brought his hand to my lips. He smiled at me. And then I jumped because baby did a somersault or something and jabbed me really hard in the ribs.

"Ugh! When are you going to come out?" I yelled at my stomach. Everyone else laughed. "It's like baby's swinging on a trapeze or something. Just come out. Come _out_." They all laughed harder, and Edward rubbed my back. That felt kind of good. I leaned forward. "Lower," I said, and he complied, massaging my lower back. It was starting to feel really sore.

Back at home, in the Cullens' living room, Edward and I sat together on the sofa. He was rubbing my lower back again because it was still hurting. There was too much pressure and I really hoped that baby would shift positions soon. "Do you know what today is?" he asked against my neck and kissed.

"October eleventh."

"This same week last year we were married in Health. Remember?"

I thought about it. I never took note of the date we were paired up, but it had been the second week of October.

I turned to him. "You're so right."

"I know." He smiled and kissed me, and I sank against the sofa.

"Ow, my back."

He stood up. "Let me get you a pillow."

"Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't need a pillow--I need a towel." Warmth and wetness spread beneath my legs.

"What?"

"My water broke. I ruined your sofa."

"Bella!" He spun around, took a step, then turned and faced me again, his hand flying to his hair. "You're…you…fu--"

"Yeah," I said and smiled. "Finally." I stood up.

"Sit…sit down. Mom!" he yelled, then took off for the stairs. "Sit down!" he called back to me. I couldn't help but laugh at him. I had no idea why sitting down mattered at this point. It wasn't like it would stop the process.

Esme rushed into the living room. "What's wrong? Why is Edward yelling?"

"It's time," I said. "He's freaking out."

"Okay. Okay. Let's get you into the car."

"I'm all wet."

"Don't worry about that. You have to get to the hospital. You'll change in to a gown when you get there." She took my hand, led me outside, and opened the car door for me. "I'll follow in my car." She closed the door and I waited for Edward, who threw my bag and baby's carseat in the back, threw himself in the front and took off.

"Slow down!"

"No way." He sped up.

"Edward, please. Baby is not going to come this very second. Please slow down. You're scaring me." I squeezed my seat as he rounded another bend.

"Bella! I just want to get you to the hospital. It's so fucking far away!"

"It's not that far, Edward. And we want to get there in one piece. Slow the fuck down!"

That got his attention. He slowed a little, looked over at me and shook his head with a crooked smile. "Your mouth," he said, still shaking his head.

"What? You say it all the time."

"Yeah, but you don't. It sounds weird coming from you."

"Well if you don't want to hear it, then don't piss me off."

He laughed and grabbed my hand. "I love you." He kissed my knuckles.

"I know."

He laughed again. "Good. You're having my baby tonight. Say it back."

"No."

"Say it."

"If you want to hear it so badly, then slow down."

He slowed even more. "Okay, say it."

I touched his face. "I love you with all my heart you ridiculous, reckless boy whose baby I'm having." And then my hand flew from his face to my stomach. "Ow!"

He sped up again. I didn't bother arguing with him anymore--my mind was on the pain. "All this time I thought the pressure was baby moving, but now…ow!…it's so much worse."

"Bella. Bella, Bella, we're almost there, okay?"

* * *

**A/N**: What do you think? Leave a review, please. :)


	10. Masen

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**The reviews were abundant last chapter, thank you! :**)

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 10: Masen

Just like countless women who go through labor, I experienced abdominal pains that grew progressively worse and closer together for hours on end. And just like most women, people were at my side reminding me to breathe, and demonstrating it as if I'd forgotten how, as if without them I would cease to bring air into my own lungs and die. And just like many a soon-to-be-mother, I opted for an epidural, because the fear of an extra long needle inserted into my back was nothing compared to my excruciating contractions.

Unlike most women, however, and well before my spine was pierced with that needle, the father of my baby had to tell a nurse off because she caused me pain. A nurse would check my cervix every-so-often to see how far I'd progressed, which over a very long and painful three hours, hadn't been far at all. This nurse with painted nails and Shirley Temple curls announced it was time for a check, so Esme left the room and Edward came to my head, while I spread my legs. Her gloved fingers were so quick and rough that I jerked back against the bed and squeezed my eyes shut.

"Relax," she said, pushing them further into me.

I tensed up.

"You have to relax!"

That only made me tense up more. _Please be almost finished_. I balled my fists, digging them deep into the bed.

"Relax!"

"How can she relax when you're yelling at her?" Edward ran his fingers over my hair and brought his face next to mine so I could look into his eyes. "Bella, can you relax a little? Take a deep breath and loosen up so it won't hurt so much." I did what he said, but that nurse's fingers still hurt, though not as much. When she left, I closed my legs up tight, tears finding my eyes. I felt violated.

"What just happened?" Edward asked.

"She hurt me."

"I saw that, but why? It's never hurt you before, has it?"

"It's always a little uncomfortable, but it's never hurt like this. Usually they go slowly, and I can prepare myself for it. But I wasn't ready this time, and she just jammed her fingers in so fast. And why was she yelling at me to relax? How does yelling ever help anybody relax?"

"She's not touching you again." But before he could leave to go talk to her, or complain about her, another contraction pummeled its way through me. I grabbed his hand and pressed the side of my face against the pillow. He was probably reminding me to breathe, but all I could hear was my own mind wishing the pain away.

As soon as that contraction ended and before my next one came, Edward stormed out of the room in search of that nurse. It turned out she had to continue with me through the birth because of the lack of available staff, but she was not permitted to check my cervix. Whenever she spoke to me, she gave me a smile and called me sweetie, making me want to spit on her.

As time passed, and my contractions grew longer and closer together, my body betrayed me. Why, of all times, did I have to go to the bathroom now? Why not even twenty or thirty minutes earlier? I couldn't imagine making the trek across the room and to the toilet between contractions. I stared at the bathroom door.

"What if I have a contraction in there?" I wouldn't have Edward's hands or eyes to help me through it, and I had no intention of pulling him in there with me.

Edward dropped my hand. "You have to go?"

I nodded. "I'll just wait until the next one ends and go as fast as I can." That was the plan, and though it was good in theory, there was no way to rush because of all the contraptions and equipment attached to my abdomen, monitoring the baby and me. We unwrapped what we could and wheeled the rest with me. Once Edward closed the door behind me and I sat on the toilet, the contraction came. I stared at the gray tile grout in front of me and waited, tight-faced, for the pain to subside.

"That's the last time I do that," I said on my way out of the bathroom. Edward put his arm around my waist and guided me back to the bed.

Almost as bad as my contractions, was the floral wallpaper. There were bouquets of flowers in muted pastels all over the place, and all looking the same, which made it impossible to find a focal point, even though I kept being reminded by Edward, Esme, and the nurses to focus.

"Look around!" I yelled at Edward the next time he told me to focus. "Tell me, can you find a damn focal point? Every time I look back at the wall, I can't figure out which flowers I was looking at last."

"How about the clock?" he said, pointing to my left. "Pick a number."

"Twelve," I said, and then took note of the time. It was just after 5:00 AM, which meant I'd been there for six hours and had only dilated to two centimeters. "Is it going to take me six hours to dilate one centimeter? Because at this rate, we'll be here for days."

Edward looked at me wide-eyed. "I-I don't know. That can't be right. Mom?"

"No, Bella," Esme said. "Soon things will begin to progress quickly. You'll see." She squeezed my fingers and I squeezed hers right back, hard, as another contraction came.

"Remember the twelve," Edward said.

I started hating the number twelve as my contractions became nearly unbearable. What bothered me more than the pain was the knowledge that as soon as one ended, another one would not be far away. My eyes teared up in anticipation of the next contraction, and there was no calm remaining inside me. I couldn't even lift my spirits with thoughts that my baby would be here soon, because in my state there was no future at all. There was only now, and only pain and more pain.

"Edward!"

"I'm sorry, Bella." His face was close to mine, one hand tight in my grasp while the other wiped a tear from my cheek. "Are you all right?"

I closed my eyes.

He kissed my hand, but it didn't feel like his kisses normally did. I felt his lips on my skin, but the tingling sensation that usually left me wanting more wasn't there. All it felt like were lips. Regular lips that could have belonged to anybody.

"No more," I said. "No more. Make it stop."

"Okay. Okay." He left the room, and I cursed him out in my mind for not being there through my next contraction; then I yelled at Esme about it.

"Where did he go?!"

Esme came to my side and pushed hair out of my face. "He'll be right back, Bella. He's getting the nurse for you."

Edward returned with my new, gentler nurse in tow. Her long white-blonde hair was pulled back from her pale face, and her touch was as soft as her voice. Soon, she would become known to me as my angel.

Esme moved aside to make room for Edward, who brought his fingers to my cheek and his eyes to mine. "She's going to check you to see if you're ready for medicine. Relax baby, relax."

I could have hugged my angel nurse when she announced I was dilated enough for the epidural. I was sure this was the only situation where the thought of a major shot in the back rivaled the joy of a child finding her filled stocking on Christmas morning.

But this was no easy process either. It took the anesthesiologist fifteen minutes just to set up his equipment. Angel-nurse asked me to sit on the edge of the bed, and she held my shoulders. "You have to stay very still," she told me.

"How is that possible during a contraction?"

"That's why I'm here. Okay, here comes one," she said, checking the monitor. "Look into my eyes." I found them, the color of the sky slightly softened by clouds. "Now breathe deeply. In through your nose. Out through your mouth." She breathed with me and I focused on her eyes. Did she know she was an angel, I wondered, or were angels unaware of their presence on Earth? The anesthesiologist was already packing up before I even knew he'd begun, and my angel helped me lie comfortably in the bed again. I found Edward's wet eyes watching me.

"You're crying?"

He shook his head. "You're doing so well, Bella." He sat beside me again and took my hand, kissing it and holding it there against his lips.

Minutes later the pain was only a memory, and I was actually smiling and joking with Edward. More people entered my room, and I wasn't bothered in the least. My dad, Sue, Alice, Jasper, Emmett, and even Rosalie were there--all before 8:00 AM. Rosalie seemed stuck in the corner.

"Rosalie," I said, holding a hand out for her. She came to my bedside, slipping her hand into mine.

"How are you, Bella?"

"You're here."

"I can't wait until you have your baby," she said. She tried forcing a smile, but it didn't quite work.

"Neither can I." I touched my stomach, trying to wrap my head around the fact that the life inside of me would soon be out, and more real than ever. She wriggled her hand from my grasp and returned to her corner, arms folded across her chest.

Carlisle stopped in a few times, whenever he got the chance to get away from his own patients. He made sure my nurses were treating me better. I assured him of my angel and he didn't even look at me strangely.

"Christiana," he said. "She's one of our best."

The one problem with my lack of feeling pain was my lack of feeling anything at all. When it came time to push and everyone but Edward and the nurses had been ushered out of the room, I couldn't even tell if I was pushing. I thought I was, but apparently I wasn't.

"Do you feel this?" Christiana asked. I felt some faint pressure and nodded. "That's my finger; push against it."

"Like that?"

"Yes."

I pushed again. "Am I still doing it?"

"Yes, but you have to stop asking me and continue pushing."

I kept doing whatever it was I thought I was doing, hoping it was right.

Dr. Denali arrived in time to "catch" the baby, although it was more like she helped baby slither on out. Masen finally made it into the world, letting out a cry at 10:17 AM on October twelfth.

"Masen's a boy!" Edward said, and although I wasn't looking at Edward, I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Here's your baby," Dr Denali said, handing the tiny pink person to me.

I gazed at him for just a moment, his closed eyes and lips sweeter than a cupid, and I cried for this little life that was now a huge part of mine and Edward's. I looked for Edward, reaching for his hand. He was right there, his face next to mine.

"He's our boy," he said.

I touched Edward's lips, loving the way 'our boy' sounded on them. "Yes, he is."

Someone took Masen away, then. I didn't know if it had been a doctor or a nurse; all I saw was my baby whisked from my arms.

Edward kissed my now-empty fingers. "Do you know what you just did? You're so amazing, Bella. You're beautiful and strong--and amazing."

Though women were doing this everywhere, all over the place, all the time, I believed him.

"I love you," he said, kissing me.

"I love you, too."

Dr. Denali interrupted us to remind me that I still needed to deliver the placenta. That was nothing compared to delivering Masen. Edward followed the pediatrician and the nurses to the nursery, where Masen would get his health check and a clean up while I was being stitched up. I now needed medicated pads and ice in my underwear, and painkillers in my veins. But somehow, none of that mattered here on my brand new cloud of motherhood.

My friends and family came in to see me, letting me know they'd all had a chance to peek at Masen through a window. I thought that was just wonderful until they all started telling me about how adorable and beautiful he was. And then Edward showed me a short video of him through Carlisle's camera. Masen was being weighed and measured, and he was crying. That reminded me that I'd only had a few moments with my son, so of course, what else could I do but get mad at Edward?

"You're taking videos of him, and I can't even see him?!"

"I'm sorry, Bella, I thought you would want me to."

I tugged on his sleeve to bring him closer. "Why are there so many people in here? Get them out of here." Not long ago my legs had been spread and my bodily fluids had been on sheets under me--I felt dirty and smelly, and didn't want visitors.

"They're here to see you, but I'll take care of it." He asked everyone for some privacy, and as soon as he came back to my side, I pulled him closer again.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I got so mad at you." I started to cry. "Of course you can take videos of our baby. I love you." I brought his face to mine with both my hands and kissed him. "And now I'm crying," I laughed through tears. "What is wrong with me?"

"It's okay, Bella. You're on drugs," he laughed. "You'll feel better when you get to hold Masen again."

Seconds later, a nurse I hadn't seen before wheeled Masen in on a little metal cart. She brought him to me all wrapped up, snug in a blanket and topped with a blue cap, just like a doll. I cradled him to my chest and kissed the softest face I'd ever kissed.

"Hi there, Masen. We've been waiting for you," Edward said, giving Masen's face a barely there touch with the back of his hand. "We're a family," he said, kissing us both.

The nurse was there to teach me to breast feed and yes, Masen taking his first few tugs at my breasts hurt, but he was finished quickly. The nurse told me it wouldn't hurt as much next time, but I needed to be careful not to get engorged, which sounded really painful and became my new fear.

"How do I keep from getting engorged?"

"You have to make sure that he empties you as much as possible each time."

"Let me hold him," Edward said, reaching for our son. Masen appeared even tinier in his daddy's arms. Edward was smiling down at him, and I was smiling up at both of them as my dad knocked and peeked his head in.

"Bella? Edward? I'm on duty in an hour. May I come in and meet my grandson?"

Edward handed Masen over while my dad beamed with pride. Seeing my dad hold Masen made me feel my mother's absence for the first time. "Did you call my mom, Edward?"

He nodded, but when he didn't reveal any further information, I asked for it.

"What did she say?"

"Well… she didn't say anything at first. And then she cried. She told me to tell you congratulations, though, and it sounded sincere to me, not sarcastic at all."

"She's coming around," my dad said. "And wait until she meets your perfect son. Look at his blond hair."

"Like my dad," Edward said.

Esme came in next, a grandma in her mid-thirties. She certainly wasn't going to be the kind of Grandma I'd grown up with, deep lines in her face and knitting afghans in a rocking chair. Esme was beautiful and wrinkle-free as she peered down at Masen with a quiet smile.

Nurses--the one I loathed and the one I loved--helped move me into a wheelchair and a new room.

My new room was dark, with closed blinds and wood-paneled walls. It made me sleepy, and as soon as I was on the bed I began to close my eyes, reaching out for Masen. Edward didn't hand him over.

"Get some sleep, Bella." Edward said. "You need it." I felt his lips brush my face.

"You can let the others in," I whispered. "They want to see Masen, too." I slept while our friends entered and whispered among themselves. I was so tired, I didn't even dream. All I saw behind my eyelids were dark walls, and I let them close in on me.

The room was quiet and free of visitors when I awoke. Edward was asleep on the chair beside me, and a night nurse was bringing Masen to me for another feeding. As she took my temperature, she asked me if I wanted to keep him with me, and I told her of course I did. "He's my baby_."_ She smiled at me and left the room without a sound. I watched Edward sleep as our baby nursed. Edward opened his eyes, as if he could feel my stare.

"Hey," he whispered, coming to the bed. I gave a painful side-scoot so he could squeeze onto the bed with us, where we both watched Masen. "He's so quiet."

"I know," I said. "Aside from when he was first born, I haven't heard him cry."

"He's our good boy. How are you feeling?"

"I feel dirty and sore. I have pads on the size of diapers and ice in my pants. It's not the most comfortable feeling."

He laughed. "I remember coming home and asking if you had any spotting. You were so embarrassed by that question, and here you are talking about ice and pads in your pants."

"Edward, all my dignity flew out the window and across the country once my legs were spread for you and half the hospital staff to see."

He kissed my cheek and rested his arm on mine so that we were both holding Masen together. "We made the right choice, didn't we?" he asked.

"I will never doubt that again. I know now that there was never any other choice."

"It's nice being quiet and alone together like this," Edward said.

"Yes. It makes me wish morning will never come." I rested my head on his shoulder. Masen moved from my breast with a full, satiated, almost drunken look on his face that made Edward laugh. I was too sleepy to join him. My eyes started to close again all on their own and I jerked myself awake.

"What?"

"I'm so tired, I'm afraid I'm going to drop him."

Edward took Masen from me and brought him to his cradle, then returned to my side. "Do you want me to go back to the chair? Will you be more comfortable?"

I reached for his arm and brought it around my middle. "No, you stay right here. You're more comfortable. Come closer, be my pillow."

He inched as close as he could to me.

"Thanks for being here, Edward."

"Why are you thanking me? Where else would I be?"

"That's what I mean--the fact that you don't know where else you would be. I'm lucky that you're the father of my baby."

He brought my face to his chest and caressed my cheek. "I'm the lucky one, Bella. So fucking lucky."

"Don't say 'fuck' in front of the baby," I whispered.

"Sorry. I'll watch myself."

"This feels like Christmas," I said, but I don't know if he heard me or answered, because I fell asleep against his chest, his heartbeat soothing me in slumber.

Baby noises woke me up this time. Real baby noises. The beginnings of a soft cry. Edward heard the whimpers too, and brought Masen to me. "Time to eat again," he said, his voice groggy from not nearly enough sleep. Light slithered through cracks in the blinds, my only indication that it was morning.

I kissed Masen's head and guided him to my breast. "When did all these get here?" I motioned to all the flowers, plants, and balloons that I hadn't noticed until just then.

"While you were sleeping yesterday. Some people brought them; others had them sent. There's one from Jessica." That made us both laugh. "The sunflowers."

"I can't believe I didn't notice them last night."

"You were still heavily drugged, and it was dark."

A nurse swept in, took my baby from me with her plump arms, and asked if I wanted her to show me how to change a diaper. Edward helped me up so I could walk over to the baby bed, where she was removing the swaddling blanket, revealing my baby's skinny legs. I grabbed for an ankle with my thumb and index finger, but he was kicking all over the place, slipping from my grasp. The diaper changing seemed basic. She did it so fast, and the way she just took hold of his legs and lifted him like she'd done it a million times, confident her tugging wouldn't hurt him--I knew I wouldn't be able to handle him like that. He looked so breakable to me.

"Are you watching?" she asked Edward, her voice sharp and raspy. "Because you must help out, Dad. This is a bonding time for you and your baby. Since your wife is nursing, this is what you get."

Edward and I smiled at each other when she called me his wife, neither of us correcting her. "You don't know Edward," I said. "He doesn't need a lecture on helping out. He's automatic like that."

"Well, you're fortunate. You wouldn't believe how many dads say diaper changing is not their job. I'm here to inform them that it _is_ their job." She eyed Edward when she said that, as if she was still unconvinced he would help me.

She took Masen's temperature before she bundled him back up and gave him to daddy. Then she had me lie down and handed me some pills. "Are you in pain?"

"Not as much as before."

"It's because of these," she said. "Take them before the pain worsens again."

I did what she said. I'd had enough pain already.

As the nurse left, Dr. Denali entered to check my healing. She touched Masen's chest, and told me how beautiful he was. "I suppose you already have a favorite pediatrician," she said to Edward with a wink, knowing he worked in the office there.

"How is Bella?" he asked.

"She looks good, healing nicely. She'll be sore and will need help getting out of bed, and to and from the bathroom. You can take a shower if you want, Bella."

"I want. I want."

She offered to help me into the shower since she was there. That way Edward got to hold baby. I knew he wasn't ready to part with Masen. It was impossible to pass them without kissing both my guys.

Carlisle visited while I was eating lunch. I'd ordered it from a pretty menu, printed as if it was hotel room service, but the food was all pre-packaged stuff: veggie burger (probably microwaved), fruit cup, baby carrots, and instant mashed potatoes. It didn't matter, though; I was hungry enough to eat everything, especially the chocolate cake slice.

"He looks like you, Edward," Carlisle said.

"Of course he does," I said, scooping some peach squares into my mouth.

"What does that mean?" Edward asked on a laugh.

"It means God is loving," I said.

Edward leaned down and nuzzled my nose with his. "Obviously that's true. He brought us Masen. But looking like you would not be a bad thing, love. Not bad at all."

I didn't say anything, just smiled at him, offering a piece of cake with my fork. He bit it off, smiling too.

"This brings back memories," Carlisle said. "Enjoy it kids, they grow up fast."

"What's your advice for us?" I asked. "Write it down." I looked around for a piece of paper.

"I'll tell you this, Bella. I think you can remember it. Take the best care of yourself you can and in return, you will have the best of yourself to give to your baby. And Edward, you make sure of it."

"Bella will be well taken care of." He kissed me as if that proved it, and I reached up to touch his face because I believed it. There was more of a beard than usual--and I kissed his furry jaw before he could get away from me.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading. Please review. :)


	11. Visitors

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

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Not Without You

Chapter 11: Visitors

Our friends arrived after school let out. I'd slept through their last visit and hadn't seen them since I'd forced Edward to get them out of my room. Rosalie was missing from the group this time. Jasper and Alice got to take turns holding Masen, because Emmett was afraid the baby would break in his hands. Honestly, I was afraid of the same thing.

Emmett sank into the big chair that sometimes doubled as Edward's bed.

"Bella," Alice said, reaching to take Masen from Jasper, who was reluctant to give him up. "I can't believe he used to be inside you. How did he fit in there?"

"I have no idea. I can't imagine him inside me right now. I must have been bigger than I felt."

"You're famous at school," Jasper said.

"Thanks to Jessica, I'm sure," I said, and he nodded.

"Is Rosalie coming today?" Emmett asked.

Edward shook his head. "I'd go pick her up, but I can't leave Bella and Masen."

I didn't argue with that because--selfish or not--I didn't want him leaving. I reached up for his hand and he gave it to me. I brought it to my other hand and held tight. His fingers squeezed mine in response.

"I'll go get her," Alice said. "I'd like to spend time with her anyway."

Emmett stood up. "You can tell her I won't be here, if that helps. I'll stay out of her way."

"She still hasn't talked to you?" Alice asked.

"She won't even tell me why, or what, I did. And I can't ask her because every time I'm near her, she shuts off. I can tell she doesn't want me talking to her. What could I have done? Do you think I should have demanded to see her sooner in the hospital? Maybe she thought I didn't care because I wasn't there soon enough. I should have been _in _the room when they broke the news about Irina."

"That's impossible," I said. "We didn't even find out about it until after they told Rosalie. Besides, it isn't anything you did or didn't do."

"You know what it is?" Emmett asked.

I looked at him, then at Edward before nodding slowly.

"You do?" Edward asked. "Rosalie hasn't even said a word to me about that."

"She told me that she doesn't deserve to be happy, and she won't allow herself to be. She's convinced you'll find happiness with someone else. She wants you to move on, Emmett. And that's why she trusts Edward above anyone else. Other than you, she feels closest to him, and she knows he isn't in love with her, so she can feel comforted without worry."

"Why won't she tell me any of this? If we're done--done for good--why won't she tell me?"

"I don't know." Tears stung my eyes and I blinked them back. I felt awful for him because none of this made sense to anyone but Rosalie.

"Let's talk about this later," Edward said, his hand still tight in mine. "Emmett, it's not over between you and Rose. We'll work it out, but I don't want Bella upset right now. She's still recovering."

"Sure," Emmett said. There was no life in his voice; there was only the deep, grainy sound of defeat. "Sorry. But uh, I'm going to go." He pointed at the door. "Bella, your baby is perfect, you look beautiful. Congratulations, and I'll see you soon, okay?" He leaned down and kissed my cheek. Then he went to Masen in Alice's arms and tugged on one of his toes, because the little kicker had worked a leg free from his blanket. "Hey, buddy. I'll hold you when you have more meat on your bones. I promise."

After Emmett left, Alice handed Masen to Jasper and asked for his keys. She was going alone to get Rosalie. "I can't believe you got her talking, Bella." She wiped tears from her face and Jasper bent to kiss her cheek. "She doesn't talk to me unless she's yelling. But I don't care; I'll drag her here if I have to. Rose needs to be with us. She just doesn't know it."

"It's really weighing on Alice that Rosalie won't open up to her," Jasper said as soon as Alice had closed the door behind her. "She feels like she may have lost her for good."

"There's a lot going on that Rosalie isn't telling anybody," Edward said, and I thought for a second he was going to reveal just what that was. "She needs the kind of help that I can't give her, but she refuses it."

"What can we do for her?" Jasper asked.

"I don't know," Edward said. "She gets worse when you approach the subject of therapy."

Jasper looked at me. Perhaps he saw the worry in my eyes, or felt it in the room. "We'll come up with something. We'll bring Rose back," he said, his eyes still on me. He gave me a slight smile, and I couldn't help but return it.

Masen squirmed and Jasper fumbled with the blanket, trying to balance Masen in his arms and wrap him up at the same time. I laughed. "He probably doesn't need the blanket while you're holding him."

"No doubt," Jasper said, and stopped his blanket struggle.

"Look at his toes." I smiled. "They're smaller than… anything."

"They sure are," Jasper said.

Edward grabbed a foot and kissed the tiny toes.

"Dude," Jasper said, "remove your lips. It's my turn. I finally don't have Alice to contend with, and you get him whenever you want."

"That's not true," Edward said. "I want him now and you have him." He held his arms out for Masen.

Jasper backed away. "You'll have him for the rest of the day and night."

I laughed and interrupted their squabble. "Did you two ever think you'd be bickering over who gets to hold a baby?"

They exchanged a glance. "No," they said in unison.

Jasper's gaze returned to Masen. "He sleeps all the time."

"Even when he eats," I said.

"I haven't seen his eyes yet. What color are they?"

"They're blue right now, but I hope they turn green," I said.

"What's wrong with blue?" Jasper asked, feigning offense.

"Ordinary."

Jasper laughed because he knew his eyes were beautiful. Everyone told him, plus he'd seen a mirror.

"Look at that," Jasper said, pointing at Masen's yawn. "He's so lazy, he yawns in his sleep."

Had he not been holding my baby at that moment, I would have thrown my pillow at him. "Don't call him lazy. He's not even thirty hours old yet."

"That's strange, isn't it? Barely a day old." He took a seat in the chair while Edward sat on the bed with me.

I struggled to sit up. I was still sore where I'd been stitched up. I leaned forward and whispered in Edward's ear that I had to go to the bathroom. He stood and helped me out of bed, patient with my slow pace. Since I was in a hospital gown, I had to hold the back closed, careful not to flash my backside at Jasper. He wasn't looking anyway. In the bathroom, I replaced the medicated pads in my underwear, which made me feel like a senior citizen--seventeen going on seventy-seven--but they were soothing, so that's all I cared about.

Just after I ordered my "room service" dinner, Rosalie followed Alice into my room.

"Hey Rose," Edward said, and went to hug her. She returned the hug.

Despite her lack of make-up and styled hair, she appeared less pale. Still, nothing about her resembled the old Rosalie. Instead of being outspoken, she barely spoke. There was no more sarcasm, no more single-eyebrow raises revealing she was about to make someone her pawn, and worst of all, there were no more smiles.

"Congratulations, both of you," she said.

"Do you want to hold baby?" I asked.

She shook her head, backing up against the wall, as if I'd force Masen into her arms if she was too close to me. I knew her reason for avoiding the baby was different than Emmett's, so I didn't push it. Her last memory of the hospital before Masen's birth was the day of her sister's death. It couldn't have been easy for her to be here. I was grateful to her for coming at all.

"I'm glad you're here," I told her.

"Thanks." She glanced at the door, and I was sure she couldn't wait to leave.

"We're all glad you're here," Alice said, putting her arm around Rosalie's shoulders. Rosalie endured the comfort for what looked like as long as she could stand, and then she moved away from Alice, folding her arms across her chest.

Jasper handed Masen to an eager Alice. "I'm sorry. I just have to," he said to Rosalie. "Let me?" He opened his arms and Rosalie stepped into his embrace, her arms still crossed in front of her. When his arms enclosed her, she relaxed a little, resting her head on his shoulder. Since the accident, this was the longest I'd witnessed Rosalie allow anyone to hug her, aside from Edward. "You have so much unnecessary anger," Jasper said. "You don't deserve to feel this way. Do you know that?"

She didn't answer, but she didn't push him away, either. "I could sure use you to help me get to sleep some nights," she said.

"Use me anytime."

"Thank you, Jasper. Thanks." That was the last thing she said until she asked Alice to take her home, and the three of them left together.

"Finally," Edward said. "I'm tired of sharing him." He rested his nose against Masen's cheek. "He smells so good."

Forming an imaginary camera in front of my face, I pretended to take a picture.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm taking a mental picture because I forgot to pack a camera."

"You also forgot that one of your best friends is Alice." He walked over to the counter, topped with flowers and plants. "This one is Alice's, and do you see how it's different from the rest?" he asked, as if I was five and watching Sesame Street. "The flowers are cookies, and inside here," he reached into the pot, "is a small photo album and a disposable camera." He took a one handed picture of me, then gave me the camera so I could take his picture.

"It's my turn," I said, holding my arms out for Masen. "I miss my baby."

Masen, warm and back in my arms... I brushed a finger down the bridge of his tiny nose. Edward joined me on the bed and shared a flower-shaped frosted cookie with me before my dinner was wheeled in on a cart.

* * *

Back at the Cullens' home, walking up the stairs to place Masen in his bassinet for the first time wasn't easy. Not only because of the residual pain between my legs, but because both Esme and Carlisle blocked our way, taking turns holding, nuzzling, and kissing their grandson.

I took the steps slowly, possibly too slow for Edward, because he took Masen from me, saying, "Maybe you need another painkiller."

We watched Masen sleep in his little white lacy bed for at least ten minutes before Edward went to his desk, grabbed a small brown market bag, and handed it to me. "Welcome home, Bella."

"What's this?"

"It's for you. Here." He pushed it against my chest.

"More chocolate oranges?"

"Just take it."

In the bag, I felt something soft and plush, and when I saw the little gray animal, my smile grew as the bag fell to the ground. "A squirrel?"

His smile matched mine. "It plays music when you turn the key." He started the lullaby.

"Is this for me, or baby?"

"Both."

I sat on the bed as the tinkling melody continued. "Where did you find this?"

He shook his head. "You'll laugh, or get mad."

"Tell me anyway."

"The hospital gift shop."

I did laugh as he sat on the bed with me, holding me at my hip. "I was delivering paperwork, and that girl you asked me about once, Tanya? She was going through the toy catalogue for the next gift shop order. I asked if I could take a look. When I saw the squirrel, I knew I had to get it for you. She wanted to order the bear because they sell better, but I talked her into the squirrel."

"How did you talk her into it? By looking at her?"

He laughed, looked down at his lap and shook his head, but didn't answer. He knew, as well as I did, that a look from him was all it took.

"You use your beauty to your advantage," I said, nudging his side.

"So do you." He kissed my face, and I thanked him for the squirrel by turning my head to capture his lips with mine. We kissed until the first moan came from Edward. Knowing we couldn't take it any further, we rested our foreheads together, letting our breathing calm.

"Are you sure you're not too afraid of the squirrel?" I asked, shoving the furry thing in his face.

"It's a little scary," he said, pushing it away, "but I think I'll be all right. I have you to protect me, don't I?"

"No."

"No?" he asked with shock in his raised eyebrows and smile.

"I'm kind of busy, with the baby and all."

"So you'll have me fend for myself in a forest of scurrying squirrels?"

"You're a big boy now, a daddy, so it's time you faced your fear."

"I see. So, that means you, a mommy," he touched my nose, "will also face your fear of dogs."

I shook my head. "I'll protect you from squirrels," I said. "No dogs. You don't want a dog, do you?"

"Everything I want is right here in this room." He pulled me into his embrace, and I wrapped my arms around his waist.

"Me too. Are you happy Masen's a boy?"

"Of course."

"I mean, were you hoping he'd be a boy?"

He paused before answering, and when he did answer, I heard his smile in his voice. "Yes. But mostly because, aside from locking her up for her own safety, I wouldn't know what to do with a girl."

"Sometimes this doesn't seem real," I said. "We're parents, Edward. Parents."

"I know."

Edward and I couldn't leave Masen in his bassinet that night. We slept with him between us. We were co-sleeping, according to what Esme later told us. I kept waking up throughout the night to make sure that I didn't roll over him. When I awoke with a start, it roused Edward too, so he eventually moved Masen to his bassinet.

"He's still close, Bella," Edward said, filling the gap between us and pulling me to him so we could sleep in peace, skin touching.

"This is good," I breathed on my return to sleep.

That didn't stop us from trying to co-sleep again the following night, though. It became a routine for us that sometime in the middle of the night, Masen was moved to his own bed, and Edward and I made our way to the center of ours.

Of course, that didn't mean that our peaceful sleep lasted throughout the night. We were both awakened every two to three hours by a hungry baby. It felt as though I had just fallen asleep when I woke up again. I was tempted not to sleep at all, but that was impossible considering how exhausted I was. On the third night, Edward suggested that he stay up as late as he could so that I could get as many hours of sleep in a row as possible. Not being _insane_, I took him up on his offer, pumping enough breast milk to last the night.

"I'll wake you when I can't stay up any longer," he said, kissing me goodnight.

* * *

Five days after Masen's birth, Carlisle and Esme invited Rosalie and her mother over for dinner. They arrived at seven, both with forced smiles. I greeted them with a real smile, and Masen in my arms.

"Call me Vivienne," Rosalie's mom said after I called her Mrs. Hale. "Ohh, look at your tiny one. May I hold him?" I handed Masen to her and like magic, her false smile became genuine.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he? He's the spitting image of you, Edward."

"I agree," Carlisle said.

"He looks like Bella, too," Edward said.

Vivienne's eyes shifted from Masen to me, then back to Masen again. "I don't see it. He's all you."

Throughout dinner, everyone avoided talk of Rosalie's father and Irina. Esme and Carlisle kept the conversation flowing with old memories. Since I hadn't been around back then, I was the quietest one at the table. Masen slept on Edward's shoulder while Edward spooned Esme's homemade chicken soup into his mouth with his free hand.

Carlisle brought up a memory of one of their trips to the lake a few years ago, when they'd all rented waverunners.

"Rosalie and Edward flipped theirs over, Bella," laughed Esme.

"Edward was driving," Rosalie said.

I smiled at him and he rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

"It was capsized for so long that it took both Edward and me to turn it over," Carlisle said.

"But you two got right back on," Vivienne said.

"Yeah," Rosalie said, "but there was no way I would let Edward drive after that."

"You drove about two miles an hour and avoided the waves," Edward said. "It wasn't even fun."

"I was _not_ going to end up upside down again."

"Thank goodness for life vests," Esme said.

"Have you ever jet skied, Bella?" Edward asked.

"I can't. It's dangerous for someone as accident prone as me."

"We should go sometime," Edward said. "You'd have fun."

"Maybe, but I'd-"

"You two used to play in the creek out there." Vivienne pointed between Rosalie and Edward, then motioned out the back door. "Remember that one time you hurt yourself, Rosie?"

Rosalie nodded.

"You tripped," her mother said.

"I slipped on a rock and scraped my knee," Rosalie said.

"That's right," Vivienne said. "You should have seen it, Bella. Rosalie was crying her little head off as they walked back to the house. We could hear her all the way in here--you would have thought she broke a limb, the way she wailed. Remember, Esme? And Edward. You held her hand," she laughed. "How old were you? Twelve?"

"I was ten," Edward said, shifting back in his seat.

"Either way, you were old enough to know what it meant to hold a young girl's hand."

"Ew," Rosalie said.

"She hurt her leg," Edward said, a bit gruff. "She was limping."

"Don't be embarrassed, Edward," Vivienne said. "We all thought it was adorable the way you two behaved. You were a miniature boyfriend and girlfriend. You took care of her. They looked out for each other, didn't they Esme?"

"Yes they did," Esme said. "They were good friends."

"Still are, aren't you, Edward?" Vivienne said. "You've been awfully helpful to Rosie."

"Of course," Edward said. "She's been through a lot."

"She has." Vivienne reached for Rosalie's face, but she squirmed away so her mom turned back to Edward. "You're the only one who's been able to get a positive response from her."

"Stop talking about me like I'm in a coma," Rosalie said. "You always do that! I'm aware of what you're saying. No one has to _get a response _from me. I talk to who I want, when I want. Sorry you can't control that, Mother."

Carlisle cleared his throat, and Esme suggested we relocate to the living room where we'd all be more comfortable. I took Masen so Edward could move the piano bench to face the sofa. We sat there together. Rosalie took a seat between her mom and Esme on the sofa, and Carlisle took his chair. I rested my head on Edward's shoulder.

"Bella, you poor thing," Vivienne said. "You look so tired."

Edward kissed my temple. "She _is_ tired, but she looks beautiful."

"I'm okay," I said. "Edward helps at-"

"I know what it's like with a baby. I raised two."

"You know what I remember?" Carlisle asked. "That week Rosalie was a cheerleader."

"Oh yeah," Vivienne said. "After all that money we spent on enrollment and the uniforms, she quit after a week."

"You were a cheerleader?" I asked.

Rosalie looked at me and shrugged.

"Not for long," her mother said. "She never really was very peppy, were you, Rosie?"

"Nope. Irina was the peppy one." She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back into the sofa.

Her mother immediately filled the too-awkward silence. "Es, remember how we used to imagine Rosalie and Edward someday getting married?" she laughed.

Esme didn't answer.

"Come on," Vivienne said. "You're the one who first brought it up. You remember. What? You never told Edward about it?"

"I remember, Viv."

"Of course you do. You practically had their wedding planned."

"What?" Edward said.

"Oh God. I can't listen to this," Rosalie said. "I'm going to the bathroom."

I watched her walk out of the room, then looked down at Masen, brushing my lips over his head.

"Is this conversation necessary?" Edward asked. "Bella is-"

"Oh Bella," Vivienne said. "We weren't serious about it. We were young and playing around--joking about what it would be like to be in-laws."

"We decided it couldn't happen because the four of us would eventually drive each other crazy as in-laws," Carlisle said.

"I hope I didn't step on your toes, Bella," Vivienne said.

"It's okay," I said, my gaze still on Masen.

"No it isn't," Edward said. "We've all been very careful about what we say tonight, but no one has shown any regard for _Bella's_ feelings." He put his arm around me. "I'm sorry, Bella. Rosalie and I never behaved like boyfriend and girlfriend, or planned an imaginary wedding. We were always friends who happen to be the opposite sex. These people don't seem to understand that."

"I didn't insinuate that you were anything more than friends," Vivienne said.

"No, you didn't insinuate it," Edward said. "You said the words outright. Don't you remember? It was ten minutes ago."

"Son," Carlisle said, "let's show some respect."

"Like the respect you've all shown Bella? Every time she tried to talk tonight, she was interrupted."

"Edward," I said.

"You know what?" Edward said, not seeming to recognize that he'd just interrupted me, too. "I remember Bella's birthday, when she very unselfishly ignored her own feelings so I could go to Rose. On her _birthday_. I remember when Bella decided to postpone her own college plans for _me_, fighting for me to pursue Stanford. And when she went through morning sickness and mood swings, hot flashes and labor!"

"Edward," I tried again.

He looked into my eyes and touched my mouth. "And Bella, Masen has your lips. I'd recognize these lips anywhere."

That brought the first smile to my face since dinner. He smiled back.

"You're right," Esme said. "He does have her lips."

"I'm sorry, Edward," Vivienne said. "I was only trying to get a smile from Rosie tonight. It seems you're the only one who can do that, so I thought if we talked about you two--but obviously that backfired."

Edward shook his head. "I understand that. Rosalie has been through hell, but Bella's been hurt enough by this situation. It doesn't need to be rubbed in her face, even unintentionally."

"What are you talking about?" Rosalie asked. Every head in the room turned abruptly toward her. No one had noticed her return until she spoke.

"N-nothing," Edward said.

"You were talking about me, Edward," Rosalie said.

"Rose, don't worry about it. It was nothing you haven't heard before." He held her gaze for a moment before she broke eye contact, seeming to give in. Edward stood up. "Bella, let's put Masen down. He'll be more comfortable."

I nodded and said goodnight to everyone before following Edward upstairs.

After I laid Masen down, Edward kissed me. "I'm sorry to drag you into the middle of that," he said. "But I couldn't take it anymore."

"You've got to control your temper, Edward. It's been little over a month since the accident. Sure it was hard to listen to their hopes and dreams of your marriage to Rosalie, but I can endure it. I'm smart enough to know you're not going to marry Rosalie."

"I'm tired of you setting aside your feelings for other people all the goddamn time. Who will stand up for you if I don't?"

"What? I'll stand up for myself, Edward. If it really matters to me _that_ much, I'll stick up for myself. I survived just fine without you for seventeen years."

"Wait. Bella," he took my hands. "I didn't mean it like that. I know you have a backbone, but there are certain things about yourself that you can ignore, but I can't. Kind of like when you stand up to your mom for me. Kind of like that, okay?"

I nodded.

"What I said downstairs, I said as much for my benefit as yours." He held my face to kiss me. "Let's stay up here. There's no reason we have to go back down there. We've already said goodnight."

I agreed. There was nowhere else I wanted to be but alone with Edward and Masen. "Up here, locked away in your room, we can pretend we're on our own," I said. "Like a real family."

"We are a real family, Bella. We'll be married eventually, we'll be on our own soon, but we are a family now."

* * *

**A/N**: Please review. I'd love to hear your thoughts. :)

* * *


	12. Lullaby

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 12: Lullaby

When Masen was two weeks old, he found his lungs. In our room, Masen screamed, while Edward was downstairs catching up on the week of schoolwork he'd missed.

I tried nursing Masen again, but he was full. I gave him my finger to suckle but he didn't want that either, nor did he do anything with his pacifier but push it out with his tongue. I checked his diaper. I walked the room with him, bouncing, but still he wouldn't stop. I was at a loss for what else to do. At least ten minutes had gone by and I was losing it myself. I lay down with him on the bed and cried right along with him.

"I'm sorry, baby, I don't know what you want." He was still screaming. I closed my eyes, torturing myself by lying there with him, listening to his cries. There was no way I was going to leave him, though.

Edward threw the door open. "What happened? What's going on?"

I sat up. "He won't stop. I don't know what to do. I tried everything I could think of."

He picked up Masen, his tiny head resting against Edward's chest as Edward lightly bounced him. That did nothing to soothe Masen, and I wasn't surprised. I fell back on the bed, eyes on the ceiling.

"Is he hungry?"

"He just ate."

"Does he need to be burped?" Edward started rubbing and patting Masen's back as if he'd just solved the problem; Masen would burp and that would be the end of his tears. But his cries still didn't cease.

"Don't you think I tried that, Edward?"

"He's wet."

"He is?" I sat up again.

"Yeah." He fished a diaper out of the top dresser drawer.

"I checked, Edward. I swear, I checked."

"I know you did, Bella. Don't worry, it probably just happened." I watched as he started changing Masen on the bed. "These diapers are still too big for him, " he said, folding the top over before fastening it. Masen's crying stopped momentarily. But when the change was complete, his cries picked right up again.

"What is it, little guy?" Edward asked, cradling him. "What is it?" Masen quieted for a few seconds, just long enough for us to feel relief, but then he started up again. "Maybe his stomach hurts." Masen paused again for just a second.

"How will we know?" I asked. "He can't tell us."

"I don't know. All we can do is guess." Again, Masen's crying stopped, only to pick right back up after Edward stopped speaking.

I stared at Edward.

"What?" he asked.

"Talk to him."

"What's the matter, Masen? What can we do for you?" As long as Edward was speaking, Masen was quiet.

"I think your voice is soothing him," I said. "Sing or something."

Edward started humming and Masen was calm. Lying down with me, _Edward_ continuing to hum a tune I didn't recognize. He had Masen on his chest and pulled me to his shoulder. Within seconds, Masen fell asleep.

"It's like magic," I said. "What am I going to do if he needs you and you're at school or work? I think you need to record your voice." I was only half joking. "What song was that, anyway? It was pretty."

"I don't know. I made it up as I went along. Has he done this before?"

"No."

"I wonder why my voice worked."

I shrugged. "Your voice has probably been soothing him all along. Remember when you started reading to him in my belly?"

"That could be it. Or maybe I need to spend more time with him. I was with him day and night for the first week."

I moved my head to Edward's chest next to Masen's, my arm around Edward's stomach. "He wants you like I do. Stay here."

I fell asleep on him, but when I awoke, I was alone in the bed and it was beginning to grow dark outside. Masen wasn't in his bassinet. Downstairs at the kitchen table, Masen was a natural fit in one of Edward's arms, while he wrote frantically with his other hand. Esme was washing the dishes and told me she had a plate saved for me in the refrigerator.

I kissed Masen and the back of Edward's neck. "You left."

"I didn't want him to wake you. You barely get any sleep."

"Thank you." I took Masen from him and brought him to the living room to nurse him. I was beginning to know by instinct when Masen was ready to eat because my breasts were too full and sometimes leaked. I fell asleep again for a little while as he nursed until he let go, ready for the next breast. Edward joined me on the sofa.

"Are you finished with schoolwork?" I asked, reminding myself that soon I would have to stop ignoring my own studies.

"No. Why?"

"I want to go for a walk or something... you know, get out."

"In the dark?"

"Don't you have a flashlight?"

He nodded. "Okay, you eat first and I'll finish up my history paper, then we'll go."

It was after 8:00 when we finally got ourselves and Masen bundled up. Edward carried Masen and hooked an arm around me as he took us toward the creek. He introduced Masen to the forest, the creek, and the footbridge he built with Carlisle, promising that someday they would build something together.

"Are you going to miss this?" I asked him. "If we move?" We stood in the middle of the bridge, water rushing beneath us.

"I haven't thought about it. I can't really. It's like... if I make Stanford real in my mind and then it doesn't happen, I'm just setting myself up for further disappointment."

"If it doesn't happen, there are other colleges. It wouldn't end the world."

"I never thought it would. My world only ends if you're not in it." He bent down and kissed me, and as he pulled away, I took Masen, bringing his head to my face to make sure he was warm enough.

"In California, it will be warmer. We can stay out longer."

Edward covered one of my hands with his. "You're cold."

"Aren't you?"

"No. But are you okay? I want to stay."

"I'm fine." I pulled Masen's blanket tighter against his face.

I followed Edward across the bridge to our big rock. We sat together listening to the stream. He shone the flashlight on it so we could see the water slipping over rocks. We sat in silence, the only silence nature knows anyway, which really isn't all that quiet. Light winds whispered through trees. Crickets chirped. Water trickled. The three of us may have been the quietest things in the forest. I remembered the night that now seemed so long ago, when we decided Masen was ours. I'd imagined living in the forest, never going back to face our disappointed families. At this point, the only one who was still disappointed was my mom.

"If only she would meet Masen, she would fall in love with him."

Edward didn't have to ask who I was talking about. "She will, Bella. We don't know when, but she will."

"I feel worse for Masen than I do for myself. If she resents him for being alive, I will never let her around him."

"When you put it that way, neither will I."

* * *

Masen's first snowfall experience came with his fifth Saturday. I couldn't keep him out long because he was still so small, but I let him feel a few flakes on his face before leaving Rosalie and Edward outside. I unbundled Masen in the warmth of the house, and laid him down on his thick blanket on the floor in front of the sofa. There was still no table. Esme decided she didn't need one for now, and it left some space for Masen, anyway. I lay next to him and gave him my finger to grasp. He brought it to his mouth.

Through the large windows, I could see Edward with his arm around Rosalie, their backs to me. He kissed the side of her head like he'd done countless times for me. I could almost feel what Rosalie may have felt in that moment. Then he released her, scooped up some snow and threw it at her. She turned her head and blocked it with her hands, where it broke apart. She formed her own ball and threw it at Edward's face. It landed right where it was intended, and I knew he could have ducked or turned, but he let it hit him. He was trying to make her laugh, and even though I couldn't see her face, I thought it might be working. They came in seconds later, both out of breath, me staring at them from the living room. If Rosalie had been smiling outside, she wasn't anymore.

Even though she'd opened up to me, even more than she had with Alice, Rosalie still avoided Masen. She'd speak to him, but never touched or attempted to hold him.

"Are you tired, Bella?" Edward asked. "You can nap. I'll take care of Masen."

"No. I'm just enjoying baby and watching you two. How's your face?"

He laughed. "Sore."

Rosalie half-smiled, then offered to get us something from the kitchen; she needed a glass of water. Edward sat next to me, his hand on the back of my thigh, as we both declined her offer.

"Does she smile with you?" I whispered.

"Sometimes."

"Was she laughing just now?"

"For a few seconds. I can get her to laugh every once in a while, but then it's like she becomes aware of it and shuts down. I wish she could forget, or just let herself be, but she won't."

"Why did you kiss her?"

His face shot to mine. "I didn't kiss her."

"No, not that kind of kiss, but you kissed her head."

"I did?"

I nodded with a frown. Was it really something he did without thinking? Without realizing?

"It must have been after I mentioned Emmett. She didn't say anything, so I chucked snow at her to change the mood."

"Yeah, it was right before you threw the snow. I can't believe you don't remember."

"Did it bother you? I won't do it again."

"No. I mean, yeah, it bothered me, but I know that it shouldn't. You're just trying to comfort her. I'm not jealous in that respect. But I was in here watching, and I remembered how it feels when you kiss me like that."

He kissed my forehead. "How does it feel?"

"Like love."

"Good. That's what it is when I kiss you." He kissed me again. "I'm sorry, Bella, really. Jasper and Emmett kiss your cheek sometimes-- it's the same thing. But I won't do it again."

Rosalie returned and I felt an instant need to change the subject, so I started randomly complaining about the "big heavy stroller," and how it was hard to maneuver through the tight aisles at the market. Rosalie ordered me to kiss Masen and Edward goodbye, pulled me to my feet and toward the door with a, "Come on," and called to Edward, "Babysit your son. We'll be back in an hour."

"There's breast milk in the fridge," I said, with a wave. I followed Rosalie to her car and didn't bother asking where we were going. She'd initiated the outing and I wasn't going to question it. She drove snail-like compared to Edward, and she didn't talk until we were parked in front of the only fabric store in Forks.

Rosalie tugged on different fabrics, testing the stretch of the material. "Do you like lavender?" she asked.

"I don't hate it."

She paid $4.99 for a few yards of the material, then wrapped it around me, showing me how to make it into a baby carrier. Back at the Cullens' house, we tested it out on Masen, and it held him sturdy against me.

"This is amazing," I said. "How did you-" I stopped because I knew exactly where she'd learned it. "It's perfect."

* * *

Friday afternoon, I had an appointment with Dr. Denali to check on my healing. I went alone, leaving Masen at home with Edward_,_ so we wouldn't have to bring baby out into the cold. It was an extremely frosty November, even for Forks. That night, after dinner was cleaned up, Esme and Carlisle sat together in the living room with a movie (a ritual for them whenever he had a night off). Edward spread his books out over the table, while I went upstairs to feed Masen and put him down for the night. Once he was asleep, I grabbed the baby monitor and returned to the kitchen.

"Edward?"

"Yeah?"

I started stacking his books. "Can you come upstairs and study? I want to be near you, alone."

He consented, like I knew he would. Once he'd set his books on his desk and I'd rested a blanket over the baby's bassinet, I turned Edward around to face me, pulling him by his v-neck until our lips met. I kissed him as deeply as he would allow, but he pulled back, the way we'd both grown accustomed-- just before our desire overpowered us. I brought his face back to mine, and when he tried to pull away again, I stood on tiptoe to kiss him some more, my hands on his waist.

"You shaved," I said, kissing up and down his jaw. "It's so smooth." I let my lips brush back and forth across the softness of his skin.

"Bella," he breathed.

I kissed his neck and drew my fingers under his shirt, up his stomach. He took a deep breath. "Bella. You have to stop. I have no control." He pushed me back at arm's length.

My eyes didn't leave his lips. "The doctor says I'm ready for exercise and other such things." I lifted his shirt, my hands drifting up his chest.

"The doctor… the doctor?" That was all he got out before his shirt was off and his lips were on mine again in a fever of kisses and gasping breaths. He tugged my shirt off, too. We were both trying our best to be quiet so we wouldn't wake the baby in our moment. Our moment which had become a thirst, a hunger, a necessity. We undid each other's pants and pushed them down. He traced a finger over my stomach. It was much flatter but still a little soft. I giggled.

"What's funny?" he asked, looking up at me from where he knelt on the floor.

"It's squishy."

He kissed me all over my stomach, tickling with tongue-teases. "I love it," he said. "I love every part of you." Then he made his way up my body with his mouth until he found my smiling lips. "You're happy."

"Of course I am." I pushed his boxers down and stepped out of my own panties. One of his hands moved up my side from my hips to the top of my ribs, then around my back, enclosing me against him--skin to skin, finally.

I pulled him to the bed, on top of me, my legs wrapping his waist. My hands on the back of his head kept his mouth on mine. We kissed over and over, minute upon minute, making up for all those times we had cut our kisses short over the past few months.

He pulled his face back, ran his fingers through my hair and looked down, into my eyes, while I felt him start to enter me.

"Wait. Wait. Wait."

He stopped. "What's wrong?"

"It hurts."

"It does?"

"Sort of."

"What do you mean _sort of_?"

"I mean it hurts and feels good at the same time."

"Do you want me to stop or keep going?"

"Go." He moved further into me.

I took in a deep breath. "Wait."

"Bella."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize." He kissed my forehead. "I just… I can't keep going and stopping. Maybe we should try again later."

I wrapped my arms around his back to hold him there. "No. It's been so long, Edward. I don't want to wait any longer."

"Neither do I, but Bella… here, let's..." he turned us around so that I was on top of him. "Is that any better?"

I pressed down on him. "No." We both groaned in frustration. He lifted me off of him.

"What are you-"

"Relax, I'm just getting a condom. Maybe it'll help." He reached into his side drawer, ripped open a condom, put it on, and in another instant he was kissing me. My lips, my face, my throat, my chest, my breasts, and I gasped at the shock of feeling his fingers between my legs. But his touch was soft and slow. I bit my lip to hold in a moan.

"Does this hurt?" His voice was deep and low, and his fingers continued teasing as he kissed up and down my neck.

"N-no. No." He quickened his pace and slid a finger into me. My back arched.

"How about this?" he whispered against my throat. His voice and his fingers brought uncontrolled gasps from my lips and quivers from my body.

"Edward… Edw…"

He kissed along my jaw to my ear. "How does it feel, my beautiful Bella?"

I pulled in a quick breath. "So… good…" I bit my lip harder, turning my head against the pillow, and Edward's lips slid to the back of my neck.

"Bella," I felt on my neck, "you feel fucking sublime to me."

I couldn't hold in my moan, and I clawed my pillow in an effort to control my volume. His lips traveled up my neck, around my jaw to my lips, bringing my face back to his. "Do you want more, Bella?"

I couldn't answer. Already feeling myself vacating my body, I tugged on his shoulder. His fingers were gone but he was there between my legs and slid in easier, and even though it still hurt, it wasn't enough pain to stop the sea of waves that were already rushing through me... against me... over me. We both groaned, moving together like lapping water, back and forth, until all that was left of either of us was a puddle.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

"Why are you thanking me?"

"Do you even know what you do? Are you aware of what you can do?"

His fingertips found my cheeks. "I know I love you. That's all I need to know." Still, he had a big smile on his face. "But you do it, too. It's not all me, Bella." He kissed my lips and moved aside, resting next to me, dragging his fingers up and down my arm.

"Yes it is. It's all you."

He laughed. "No it isn't. I swear. What you do to me… there are no words for it. It's…" he ran a hand through his hair, "it's… fuck… remember our second time on that first night? You said, 'why would anybody ever stop?' That's how I have felt the entire time. I never want to stop because of the way you make me feel. You're fucking unreal. And I'm the lucky idiot who gets you."

It was my turn to laugh. "Don't call yourself an idiot. Especially after that."

"Idiot or not, I'm lucky."

We pulled each other as close as we could get, his arms around my shoulders and mine around his waist. We allowed ourselves to fall asleep naked, wrapped in each other for the first time in too long.

Naked and cold, I shivered. There were no arms around me. I reached for Edward, and when I didn't feel him I opened my eyes to darkness and an empty bed. I must have slept through Masen's cries. As sleepy as I was, I needed to feel Edward, so I pulled on his shirt, some sweats, and headed downstairs. Just outside the bedroom door, I heard the piano. I followed the somewhat recognizable melody to the living room. Masen slept bundled up on the sofa while Edward hovered over the piano.

"Beautiful," I said, and he immediately stopped and turned around. "Keep playing."

He took my hand. "Did I wake you?"

"I was already awake. Play some more," I said.

He shook his head and pulled me onto the bench with him, wrapping his arms around me. I inched back to look at him. His brows were furrowed and I drew my fingers over them. "Are you sad?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he bowed his head against my chest. I brought a hand to the nape of his neck, fingers in his hair. I was so far from sad after making love with him just a few hours ago, that I couldn't fathom how he could be in a mood like this. "What's wrong, Edward?"

"It's nothing."

I led him to the sofa and sat between Edward and Masen. "That song you were playing sounded familiar."

"Because you've heard it before," he said. "It's Chopin. Masen's squirrel plays it."

"That _is_ it." I turned to face him. "I didn't know you knew that song."

"I didn't know it."

"But you just played it... Are you telling me that you were playing that song by ear?"

He shrugged.

I brought my hand to his face. "You can do that?"

"Sometimes. Not perfectly. I can't get the chords right without the music, but that doesn't matter because I can't read music anyway."

"Edward, why haven't you ever played for me before?"

"I have."

"Once. You played _Mary Had A Little Lamb_. I didn't know you could play like _this_. Why didn't you share this with me?"

"It's pointless, Bella."

"Why would you say that?"

"If I tell you, will you let it go?"

"I can't promise that when I don't know what it is."

"Okay, just... don't turn this into something bigger than it is. Sometimes I'm drawn to play, compelled to it, but afterward, I'm left with this… heavy feeling."

"Why?"

"I can't do anything with it."

"Because you can't afford lessons?"

"Look, it doesn't matter. Can we forget about it now?"

"I don't understand. If it means so much to you, why don't you major in Music instead of Business?"

"Music won't pay the bills. I'm no protégé. It would take a lot of time and work for me to get good enough for a career in music. I'm not going to chase a dream I can't catch. I'd probably end up playing in malls or something. I know what it's like to grow up struggling for money. That's not the life I want for me or my family."

"But your dad won't be struggling for much longer. It all pays off in the end; plus he's living his dream."

"I'll be out of the house by the time he's earning a good living. I want it to be different for Masen. We don't have to be rich, but we do have to be comfortable."

"Okay. But don't be sad, though." I kissed him, and he must have needed it because he held my face and kissed me deeper.

"I'm not sad." He kissed me again. "I have you. I have Masen. That makes sadness an impossibility."

"You can make piano a hobby, Edward. You don't have to put expectations on it just because you're gifted. Just play it. Enjoy it."

"I'll think about that," he said. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For encouraging me. You always believe in me, and it makes me think that you could be right-- that maybe I can be what you see in me."

I smiled. "You _are_ what I see in you."

He kissed me again, before lifting Masen. "Come here," he said. Lying back on the sofa with tiny Masen on his chest, he pulled me down, too. I had one leg over his and my head in the crook of his shoulder.

"I feel like I know you so well," I said, "but we still have a lot to learn about each other."

"We have our entire lives to learn," he said.

"Tell me something I don't know about you, right now."

"You first," he said.

"I'm not as interesting as you."

"Never say that, Bella. I'm fascinated by you. Tell me something, anything, small or big about age fourteen."

"Fourteen? Okay… um… in eighth grade, in Phoenix, I was in my school's Shakespeare play?"

He laughed. "Are you asking me or telling me? Which part did you play?"

"Viola."

"A girl, pretending to be a boy."

"Yep, it was perfect; I was boyish back then."

"I doubt that. Wait, don't the leads kiss in that one?"

I lifted my head, peering at him wide-eyed. "Oh my god, I forgot about that." I covered my mouth.

"Bella. You said that I was your first kiss."

"I told you, I forgot. How could I have forgotten? All those rehearsals…"

"What?!" He lifted his head, eyes wide, too.

I laughed. "Just kidding. There wasn't a kiss in our eighth grade adaptation."

"You are evil. Evil."

"Sorry. Your turn. Tell me something about fourteen."

"Let me think," he sighed. "Oh, I was in this bowling league with Jasper and Emmett."

"You bowled?" I laughed.

"Why is that funny? Emmett was really good. Sometimes he bowled three hundred. He got some trophies-- they were the plastic kind, painted gold, not even metal."

"I just can't imagine you bowling. Why did you guys quit?"

"The Forks Bowling Alley closed down," he laughed. "The abundance of opportunity surrounding a childhood in a small town is astonishing, isn't it? Your turn."

"Don't laugh," I said. "I used to take ballet."

"Why would I laugh at that? Dance for me." He moved his arm from me so I could get up, but I didn't move.

"No way."

"Come on. Just one twirl. I played piano for you."

"No you didn't. I _caught_ you playing. I can't dance. There's a reason I only took ballet for one year, when I was five. I sprained my ankle. More than once."

"Bella," he gave me a one-armed squeeze and kissed my head. "Some things never change."

"Your turn," I said, but he yawned. "You're tired."

"Mm-hmm." He closed his eyes.

"Wait. Don't fall asleep yet." I shook his shoulder. "I have one more question."

"What is it?"

"How often do you sneak away to play piano?"

"It depends. A few times a month, at least. More often when I'm stressed."

"I've been living here all this time and never knew?"

He didn't answer. His eyes were closed again, and again I shook his shoulder.

"How did I never know?"

"…Middle of the night."

"You're going to play for me on purpose sometime, I hope you know."

He didn't answer. He was already asleep. I kissed Masen's cheek and Edward's chin, then let myself fall asleep too. The three of us, snuggled up tight on a not-quite-big-enough sofa--it was perfection.

For once, Masen didn't wake us up in the morning. Esme did.

"Bella?" She touched my arm. "Edward? What are you doing down here?"

"We fell asleep," I said, as if that wasn't at all obvious, and as if that answered her question completely.

She picked Masen up off of Edward's chest. "You two go on up and get some sleep. I'll feed Masen. I think there's some breast milk in the fridge.

"No," I said, sitting up. "I'll feed him first. My boobs hurt." Then I laughed because I'd just complained about my breasts to my sort-of mother-in-law.

Edward sat up and kissed my cheek. "Morning, love."

"Edward, Masen slept all night!"

"Well, yeah, from like 2:00 until… what time is it?" he asked.

"It's just after 6:00," Esme said.

"Oh man, it's too early."

"Go up to bed," I said.

"Not alone. Come with me."

"I'll watch Masen when you're done nursing, Bella," Esme said. "You two need all the sleep you can get. You couldn't have been comfortable down here."

I smiled at Edward. "I was."

"Me too," he smiled back.

Upstairs, we snuggled into bed together, and Edward kissed my eyelids, but didn't stop there. He kissed all over my face, and then my neck.

"What are you doing?"

"Let's have morning sex."

"Edward, we can't. We're up here to sleep. That wouldn't be fair to your mom."

"We can sleep right after. I want you, Bella."

"Why? So you can get all emotional and run off to play the piano?"

"Don't call me emotional." He licked the inside of my neck to my ear, and nibbled my earlobe.

"Edward, whenever you sneak away to play piano, I want you to wake me up. I don't care what time it is. That is a beautiful part of you… a part of your soul. I want you to share that with me."

"Okay. Make love to me now, and I will. I promise."

"Are you bribing me for sex?"

"Don't blame me. Feel my need for you." He pressed himself against my thigh, his desire undeniable, and that was all it took for me to give in.

* * *

**A/N**: Review, review, review. :)


	13. Tears

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

**A/N**: I have to thank myimm0rtal , not only for her editing help, but for her close read, and the generous time she dedicates to the unfolding of this story. You are more than appreciated.

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 13: Tears

Alice's voice was so loud and panicked that I had to pull the phone from my ear.

"Bella! We need Edward. Emmett is going after Rosalie's father!"

"What?!" With Masen in my arms, I was already on my way out of the bedroom in search of Edward.

"He was with us at Jasper's and we were talking about Rosalie, and he lost it. He just took off. We're following him now, but he's driving too fast. Can you get Edward to meet us there?"

In my rush, I held the railing on my way downstairs, careful not to pull a Bella and trip while holding baby. Edward was making sandwiches in the kitchen. I let him know we had to go.

"I'll go, Bella. You stay here. Eat."

"No. I'm going with you. Don't make me stay, Edward."

He studied my face. I knew he saw in it my resolve. I was going and he couldn't stop me.

He sighed. "Okay. I'll ask my mom to watch Masen, because I'm sure you at least agree that he shouldn't be there."

I nodded.

After kissing Masen goodbye in Esme's arms, Edward and I went after Emmett.

We could hear Emmett from the other side of Rosalie's front door, and Edward barged in. Alice was standing in the living room, with an arm around Rosalie's waist, while Jasper was behind Emmett, with a hand on his shoulder. Rosalie's dad was staring Emmett down.

"You've fucked up her life," Emmett said, pushing Jasper's hand away, and then pointing a strong finger at Rosalie's father. "You've ruined our relationship and possibly, irreversibly hurt the only daughter you have left."

Mr. Hale's eyes flew to his daughter.

"Emmett," Edward said, "you have to stop this."

"Fuck. I'm sorry, Rose," Emmett turned, stepping toward Rosalie as if Edward hadn't said a word. "I'm sorry I said that. I'm just so-- you've got to talk to me, baby."

"I think it's clear she doesn't want to talk to you," Rosalie's father said. "You've overstepped your bounds. It's time you left."

"Let go of me, Alice!" Rosalie said, and Alice moved into Jasper's waiting arms.

"Rose, talk to me," Emmett said, as though he and Rosalie were the only people in the room. "Just _talk_ to me. We've been together for two years without a problem. Don't let us go. We're perfect together. You know that."

Rosalie's eyes were on the floor. Her mouth opened, and I was sure this was it. Rosalie was finally going to talk to Emmett. But no voice came out. She was silent.

"If it's over, tell me, Rose," Emmett said. "Is it over? Are we through?"

"It's over," she said, no inflection in her voice, eyes down.

"No," Emmett said, "it isn't."

She looked up at him-- looked him in the eyes for the first time since I'd arrived. "Yes, it is."

"Rose, is this what you want? What you really want, deep inside? I'm going to move on. Is that what you want?"

She hesitated, looked at Edward and back at Emmett. "It-it's what I want." Then her eyes were back on Edward. She kept them there.

Emmett shook his head over and over. "You're ending us for no reason, Rose. There is no reason for this."

She didn't answer.

"I'll never feel this way for anyone but you. Anyone else I date will be filler. I'm going to fill time for the rest of my life."

He walked out the door and I noticed Rosalie take a step forward. _Take another step_, I willed. _Go after him._ But she didn't move.

"Rosalie, this isn't what you want, is it?" I asked, taking her quivering hands in mine.

"How many times does she have to say it before you all believe her?" her father said.

None of us answered him.

Rosalie twisted her hands from my grasp. "Leave me alone, Bella. You've pressured me enough."

"What?"

"I answered your questions about Emmett, but that wasn't enough for you."

"Because you're hurting him, Rosalie. And you're hurting yourself. He loves you so much, and he wants to be here for you. But the only person you go to willingly is Edward. Why are you doing this?"

"It's _my_ choice whom I go to, not yours."

"And you choose _my_ boyfriend over _yours_?"

Rosalie took a few steps back as if I'd pushed her.

"Bella," Jasper said, taking my hand. "We're going to have to stop pressing her." He went to Rosalie and rubbed her back. "It's okay," he said. "We're on your side. Everyone here is on your side, Rosalie. Including your dad."

Edward came from behind me, encircling me in his arms, and kissing the side of my neck, but I couldn't feel his lips through my hair. "Bella," he whispered. "Bella."

I leaned back against his chest, letting him support me for a moment, and turned my head so that I could feel his lips as they brushed my face. I reached back to touch the scruff on his chin and he kissed my palm. I wanted to turn around and hug him tight, but my eyes were drawn back to Rosalie.

She was looking at Jasper, her chin quivering, her eyes wet, but the tears didn't drip. She squeezed her eyelids closed. "My life," she whispered.

"What about your life?" Edward asked.

"I'm not in it." Her voice was barely audible. "I don't recognize it. This is someone else's life. What happened to mine?"

"This _is_ your life," Edward said, letting go of me. "You can make of it what you want. You can be with Emmett. You can be happy, Rose. Despite everything, you can be happy. All you have to do is make the choice."

"Happy? What the fuck is that? Is happiness a fucking choice, Edward?"

"Your language, Rosalie," her father said, and she shot a scowl at him.

"Are you happy, Edward?" she asked. "Are any of you happy?"

Nobody answered. We couldn't tell her we were happy even if we were.

"There's no such thing," she said. "Mind-wrestle Emmett over it and he'll tell you the same. Happiness is a fucking façade. Emmett's the one who told me that, and he was right. It's only temporary. If any of you think you're happy, it isn't going to stick around. Don't expect it to last forever. That's a fairytale."

"It isn't a fairytale," Jasper said. "It's a state of mind. You know, as well as the rest of us, that Emmett rarely believes what he says in a mind-wrestle. All he cares about is winning. He knows how to argue every side, but that doesn't mean he believes it."

Rosalie looked at the floor, shaking her head.

"You're angry, Rosalie," Jasper said. "You have been for a long time. You feel it; it's real, just like happiness or any other feeling."

"Alice," Rosalie said, ignoring Jasper. "Can I stay at your house tonight? I'm not staying here because of him." She pointed in her father's direction without looking at him. "And I'm not welcome at Edward's."

"Of course," Alice said. "You can stay with me as long as you want. Pack your things."

"What do you mean you're not welcome at my house?" Edward asked. "Who said that?"

Rosalie looked at me, Edward's gaze following.

I shook my head. "I never said that."

"You didn't have to," Rosalie said.

I frowned at her. "I never hinted at it either."

"You didn't have to," she said again.

"Rosalie! Why are you like this? Nobody can reason with you. Ever since I met you, you grasp on so tightly to your opinions and you never back down. Even when you know you could be wrong, you don't back down."

"Nobody's forcing you to be friends with me, Bella."

I shut my eyes and brought a hand to my head. I felt Edward's hand on my back, and took a deep breath. "We _are _friends," I said. "I care about you so much, Rosalie. I wouldn't have come today if I didn't. But the decisions you're making, and shutting Emmett out like this, it's all going to affect the rest of your life. I don't want you to hurt yourself like this."

She stared at me for a few seconds, maybe over a minute, while everyone around us was silent. "Just because we're friends doesn't mean you get to decide what's right for me. You have your own life to live; you don't have to navigate mine."

I turned to walk out the door just like Emmett had. One by one, she was breaking her friends down.

"Bella," Edward said.

"I'll wait for you out front," I said. "I can't breathe in here."

I was surprised to see Emmett's Jeep still parked on the curb, but he wasn't in it. He was leaning up against a tree.

"Emmett, she's completely irrational. She needs help. Professional help."

"What the fuck can I do? We're over."

"You know that isn't what she really wants," I said. "She knows it, too. You should have seen her after you left. She was shaking. I could tell she wanted to follow you, but she held herself back."

"What can I do about it? No one can force her. Even if what she's saying and what she's thinking are different, we can't force her to do what she's determined not to do."

"Emmett, Edward told me something on my birthday. Something about Rose. A reason he believes she needs help practically before she even asks for it. Do you know anything about that?"

"What is it?"

"I don't know. He wouldn't tell me. I thought maybe you knew."

He let out a scoff and shook his head. "It figures Edward knows something about Rose that none of the rest of us do."

As he said that, "the rest of us" exited the house. Jasper, Alice, and Rosalie headed toward his truck as Edward approached Emmett and me.

"What do you know?" Emmett asked, lips tight. Edward's arm paused in mid-air on its way around my shoulders. "What did Rose tell you? Did something else happen to her?"

Edward let his arm fall to his side. "You told him?"

"I _asked_ him," I said. "I wondered if he knew."

"Well, it's nothing," Edward said. "It's not even an issue anymore."

"Something that was so important a few months ago suddenly isn't an issue?" I asked.

"Time changes things, Bella. There's no point in talking about it now."

"What is it, Edward?" Emmett yelled.

Edward shot a glare at him. "If Rosalie wants you to know, she'll tell you."

In that second, the look on Emmett's face was as if Edward had just punched him. He might as well have; Emmett looked so hurt.

"Edward," I said. "Didn't you see what Emmett just went through inside? Don't talk to him that way. He's concerned about his girlfriend!"

"You're right. I'm sorry, Emmett. But the fact is, I'm concerned about my girlfriend, too, and this thing that Bella's talking about, it really isn't an issue anymore. There's no point in bringing it up. Out of respect for Rosalie, I'm going to let it go."

"All right," Emmett said. "Whatever. I'm done." He left for his Jeep and took off.

Edward and I stood there looking at each other. I didn't even know what to say to him. He held my shoulders and spoke first.

"Bella, look. I'm serious. There's no point in talking about it. The only person it concerns is Rosalie. It has nothing to do with you or me, or even Emmett."

"Why won't you just tell me what it is? If it's not an issue anymore, what did the issue used to be? You promised you would tell me. You told me to trust you."

He took my hands, and brought his eyes to mine. "I know I did. Please trust me, Bella. The only thing that revealing this will do is make you sad. It won't help Rosalie. I don't want to make you unnecessarily sad."

"Hearing that just makes me want to know more."

"If it was relevant now, I'd tell you, but it's not."

"So by not telling me, you think you're protecting me?"

"Protecting you emotionally, I guess. You would do the same for me. You have."

"When have I?"

"Every time you keep your true feelings hidden from me just to avoid conflict. You know you do."

"Okay, but regarding this matter, if the roles were reversed, would you let it go?"

"I honestly don't know."

"Well, what is it about? Can you at least tell me that-- ease my mind a little bit?"

"It has to do with her sister's death and the accident."

"What, like what she saw?"

He closed his eyes. "Bella, please. You know what it's about now. Can we leave it there? Please?" He tucked some hair behind my ear and let his hand drift over my shoulder, down my arm.

"Yeah," I said.

He gave me a half-smile.

"For now," I said.

"For now?"

"For now."

He pulled me close and I sank into his hug. It felt good to be in his arms after all that had happened. "What's been going on with Rosalie has been hard on all of us," he said. "But today, it's become evident what this has done to you. I'm not going to let it affect you and me anymore. She's reaching out to Alice now, and I'm going to start insisting that she deal with others. It's not healthy to rely on only one person. When it was fresh, sure, but it's been too long, and she _has_ to start getting better." He pulled back, bringing a hand to my face. "Are you okay?"

I nodded.

"Are you sure, Bella?" His thumb caressed my cheek.

"Yes. I'm okay."

"I hope so." He kissed me. We were outside Rosalie's house, in the middle of the day, and he kissed me as deeply as if we were in the privacy of our room. His lips dusted over my face, down to the back of my neck. "I love you," he said against my neck, "so much."

I tugged on his shirt to bring him closer as my heart rate and my breathing sped.

"I'm sorry this has hurt you," he said, kissing up my neck, back to my lips. "That's the last thing I ever want to do." His breathing picked up, too, as his hands slid down over my hips to my thighs. "Let's go home," he breathed into my ear. "Let's go hold Masen."

I smiled my first smile since Alice's phone call. It was amazing what Masen's name alone could do.

* * *

I hadn't seen Emmett since the incident at Rosalie's four days earlier. But on Wednesday, as I changed Masen's diaper in the living room, hours after Edward had left for school, Emmett walked right in and plopped himself down on the sofa.

"Bella, I need you to talk to Rosalie for me. I can't take this anymore."

"Why aren't you in school? You have finals today." I slipped Masen's pants on and stood up with him.

"Who gives a shit about finals? I need Rose back."

"Emmett, what are you doing? You're in line to be valedictorian. Are you really willing to let Edward beat you to the podium?"

"This has been going on far too long," Emmett said, ignoring my question. "Edward is no help. I need someone stronger. I need you."

"You think I'm stronger than Edward? Have you seen what he can do?"

"I've seen him fail at talking to Rosalie for me because he's afraid of upsetting her. You're the one who told me not to give up the other day at Rosalie's. Will you help me? She'll listen to you."

"What planet are you from? If she's not listening to Edward, what makes you think she'll listen to me?"

"Because Edward backs down at the first sign of frustration from Rose."

"Are you going back to school today?"

"Are you going to help me out?"

I grabbed Masen's diaper bag from the foyer. "Come on, Emmett."

"Where?"

"Just come on. I need some air. We'll talk about it in the car." Emmett followed me outside and got into Edward's Bug, filling his side completely-- a near giant in the little car. I buckled Masen into his carseat and took off. "I'll talk to Rosalie for you. I don't know what good it will do, but I'll try. You're going back to school right now."

"Thanks, B. I knew I could count on you." He turned his head and stared out the window. We drove in silence for a little over a mile before he spoke again. "I know I joke around with you a lot..." he put a hand on my arm "...but your really are one of the best people I know. You're smart, you've beaten me at mind-wrestling more times than I'd like to admit, and you're just so damn selfless. How do you do it?"

"Half the time I don't feel selfless, Emmett. I feel selfish."

He withdrew his hand. "See, that's just it. You don't even see it. I've said this before, but I mean it. Edward is damn lucky to have found you."

"From what I hear about his past, I'm lucky he chose me out of all his other options."

"He's lucky _you_ chose _him_. Seriously. If you and Edward weren't together, I'd-"

"Stop. Don't say it. Don't talk like that, Emmett. Once you say it, you can't take it back, and we might be living together next year."

"I didn't mean anything by it. I would never try anything with you, don't worry. It's just that you and Edward are... I'm envious of him. Envious of what you two--wait, what do you mean _living together_?"

"Um…" Oops. In my sort of panic over what may have been an almost-Emmett-come-on, I'd forgotten to use my brain, and now there was no backtracking. I had no choice but to tell him. I shifted the gears, grinding them in my nervousness. "Emmett, Edward and I... well, and Masen, are volunteering to be your roommates in California. If he makes it there and if it's okay with you. We can't think of any other way we could afford it."

"B, if you can get Rosalie to talk to me, you guys can take the fuckin' master bedroom."

"Shh," I said, "the baby. But she'll talk to you, Emmett. Even if I have nothing to do with it, I know she will. You don't have to give up your bedroom."

"By the way, Edward isn't next in line for the big 'V' anymore. Sorry, B."

"Then Rosalie?"

"Nope."

I racked my brain for someone who was in more AP classes, and smarter than Rosalie or Edward, but I came up with no one. "Is this a mind-wrestle?"

"I'm serious, Bella. Rosalie and Edward have missed too much school. Only by a fine margin, it would be Ben or Angela. They have better attendance records."

I pulled into the parking lot just as the lunch bell rang. Seniors poured out of the building. We both saw Edward and Rosalie, his arm around her shoulder.

"What's going on?" Emmett asked. "Come on."

I popped Masen's carseat out of place and followed Emmett.

"Bella… what are you doing here?" Edward asked. "Masen!" Distracted by our son, he let go of Rosalie and bent over to kiss Masen and tickle his chest. "Hey, kid, you're at school."

"I'm forcing Emmett to go to class," I said, "because he forgot his priorities."

Rosalie looked over at Emmett, who was of course, returning her gaze. "I'm aware of my priorities," Emmett said.

"Are you going out to lunch?" I asked Edward.

"I was going to take Rosalie back to our house, but maybe you can?"

"What? What about finals? Doesn't _anyone_ care about school anymore?" Did I have to be the voice of reason for everyone? I didn't even _go_ to school.

Edward lowered his voice. "Bella, she's having a rough day. She's been excused, okay?"

I shut up and nodded.

Rosalie and Emmett were still staring at each other. I couldn't remember the last time Rosalie had looked at him for that long.

"Are you okay, Rose?" Emmett asked.

"I'll be fine."

Was that Rosalie actually calmly answering Emmett? He smiled. "Good. I'm still here, Rosalie. I'm always here."

She nodded, starting for the car. Edward gave Masen's nose a kiss, then mine. "It's good to see you both here." His voice fell to a whisper, "Rosalie isn't doing well at all. I don't know what happened, but she's worse than she's been in a while. Call me if you need my help."

I nodded, "I'll take care of her. You take your tests and do well. And make sure Emmett stays here. I had to trick him into coming back. His Jeep's at your house, so he'll need a ride."

Edward nodded. "We're eating here today," he told Emmett, and they walked toward campus, both throwing quick glances over their shoulders. Rosalie was already in the car as I locked Masen's carseat back into position.

"Bella!" an out-of-breath Jessica squealed from behind me. She must have run all the way over here. "Bella, I need to talk to you." She glanced over at Rosalie. "Do you have a minute?"

"What is it?"

She shot another glance at Rosalie, then lowered her voice. "I'm worried about you. You can't tell me you didn't just see Edward and Rosalie with their arms around each other."

"Yes, I saw it." I didn't bother lowering my voice.

"Well, they do that a lot. And you know, before you moved here, like freshman year, it was obvious they had a thing going on."

"No they didn't. They were just friends. You have to stop believing rumors, Jessica. It's not healthy for your brain."

"I'm just looking out for you, Bella. We're friends now, right?"

"Sure. Everything's fine, though. Nothing is going on between Edward and Rosalie, so just please don't talk like that."

"Jessica," Rosalie said, leaning over the driver's seat. "Can you stay out of other people's business for like five minutes? Can you do that? Are you capable?"

"Bella is my friend. Doesn't that make it my business?"

"I don't know any _friends _who try to cause drama in another _friend's_ relationship based on speculation and lies. If you were a true friend, you'd just shut your goddamned mouth."

"Oh, so helping Edward out with Stanford isn't being a true friend, then? Who made you god of all friends anyway? You're the one flirting with your own friend's boyfriend."

Rosalie groaned and threw her head back in her seat.

"Okay. Jessica, maybe your heart is in the right place, I don't even know anymore. But you're wrong about Edward. Rosalie is one of my _best_ friends. So I'm going to have to ask you to stop talking about her like that. I have to go now. We'll talk later." I got into the car and backed out of the parking lot without another look at Jessica.

"Ugh. Don't you hate that you have to kiss her ass like that because of Stanford?"

"So much! But I'm not going to let my temper ruin things for Edward."

We were both quiet as I drove past the diner, the market, and toward the Cullens' winding road. Rosalie was the first one to break the silence.

"I'm one of your best friends?"

"Well… yeah."

"Thanks, Bella."

"Um… you're welcome?"

Back in the Cullens' living room, I was rocking Masen when Rosalie asked to hold him. She had yet to hold him, and I wasn't sure she'd ever touched him. "Sure," I said. I got up, handing Masen to her, and she took my seat in the rocker, her hand petting his head. And then she started crying. She was silently weeping, and if I hadn't been looking at her, I wouldn't have known.

"Rosalie?" She didn't look up or acknowledge me. She just continued in her silent cries, resting her cheek against Masen. I ran to the bathroom to get the tissue box and held it out for her. She grabbed a couple, holding them to her face.

"I'm sorry…" she sobbed, "…sorry for… crying… all over your baby."

Masen was sleeping, so I spread a thick blanket over the floor and took him out of her arms to lay him down. Then I sat on Rosalie's lap in the rocking chair and held her head against my shoulder, letting her cry for as long as she wanted. As long as she needed. I didn't say anything. I just let her cry. Finally, ten, maybe fifteen minutes later, she started to calm down. She grabbed for more tissues, wiping her face again. I moved from her lap to the sofa and sat quietly to see what she would do next. I didn't want to push anything, knowing that she had never wanted my comfort before.

"I've ruined everything," she said. "I'm surprised I even have any friends left after the way I've been acting."

"Of course you have friends."

"You and Alice are... Alice. I've treated her the worst and she just takes it. You at least stand up to me."

"We all know what you've been through. Don't blame yourself for anything. You're taking enough blame on your shoulders as it is."

"Bella. You're a real friend. You know that? A real, true friend."

"So are you."

She shook her head. "I don't even know how to be a human, let alone a friend."

"You're a friend. To all of us, especially Edward. Is this the first cry you've had since…"

She nodded.

"Can I get you anything? Do you need anything?"

She looked into my eyes. Hers were red and shiny with tears. She opened her mouth to say something, and then shut it again. Finally, she said it: "I need Emmett."

My heart dropped to my stomach. If only he had been here to hear that. The way she said it, he wouldn't have had any doubt that she still loved him. I held my own chest; that's how true and raw her need for Emmett sounded. I wished I'd recorded it. I stood up, pacing the room. Should I call him? Take her to him? School still had at least another hour in session. He had grades to consider. What would I want? If this were Edward and me, what would I want? I'd want him to finish school, first and foremost. I knelt in front of Rosalie, who was covering her face in sobs, and I put my hands on her knees.

"Rosalie, I promise you the first place Emmett will come when he gets out of school is to you. Okay?" I pulled her hands from her face and she held mine tight. I kissed the back of her hand, and reached up to move her hair out of her eyes. If possible, her hair was even softer now without all the product she used to wear in it. "How are you? Are you all right?"

She nodded.

"Let me get you a drink." I went to the kitchen and came back with a glass of water, then let her know I would be right back, scooping Masen up and carrying him upstairs to his bassinet. In our room, I grabbed my phone to call Edward. I knew if I called Emmett, he would drop everything to come straight to Rosalie.

Edward answered in a hushed voice. "Bella?"

"Rosalie is crying and she's asking for Emmett! Bring him here right after school, but don't tell him until school ends because you know what he'll do."

He agreed. "That's so good, Bella," he whispered. "That's so good."

"I know."

I grabbed the baby monitor and went directly down to Rosalie. She was crying into her hands again. I took her by the wrist and pulled her to the sofa so I could wrap my arms around her shoulders while she cried some more.

"Bella? What happened?" she asked between sobs, but I had no idea how to answer that. What happened, meaning the accident, or what happened to her will for happiness?

"I don't know, Rosalie. But you're going to be okay. You have so many people who love you and want to be here for you. All you have to do is let us."

She wiped her tears and backed away from me. "I'm okay. I'm okay now." She sniffled and grabbed another tissue from the box that was now on the floor. "Thank you." She blew her nose. "Is Emmett… is he coming here or should I go to him? Should I really expect him to come here after what I-"

"He's coming here. Really, Rosalie. No matter what happened, I can assure you that there is nowhere Emmett would rather be at this moment than with you. He has to finish testing first."

She nodded. "Okay."

"Did something happen today… to make you think about everything again?"

"Um… yes. My… I couldn't find my chemistry book, so I took everything out of my locker, sure I'd missed it, but it wasn't there. As I put my books back, an old picture of my s-sister fell to the floor. It's in my… it's in my bag." She looked around. "I think I left my bag in Edward's car."

"It's okay. I'll get it for you."

"I used to use that picture as a bookmark because I missed her. Even when she was alive, I missed her."

Her cries came back for another round. She dropped her face all the way to her legs, her knuckles touching the floor and I rubbed her back. This was worse than before. It was like she'd just collapsed. I tried lifting her toward me, but she was too heavy.

"Come here, Rosalie." I guided her head to my lap and let her cry on my legs while I caressed her head.

"Why am I here?" she gasped through her sobs.

I couldn't answer that question, either. I didn't know if she was asking why she was here at Edward's house, or why she was here on Earth.

"What have I done?"

"You didn't do anything, Rose. Nothing."

She lay there like that, crying in silence, calming and quieting, and then crying again.

"Rosalie!" Emmett was through the door well before Edward. She shot up to a sitting position the instant she heard his call. He was coming quickly toward her, and she stood up just as he approached her. Just in time to fall right into his arms. She wept against him and he cried for her, and maybe for himself, too. He pressed fingers to his eyes. "Rose," he said.

"Em-Emmett. I'm s-sorry… so sorry."

"Shh." His hand came down her back.

"I love you, Emmett."

"I love you, too. I never stopped. Shh," he said. "Shh. Shh."

"Emmett," she wept. "My s-sister. Irina. She's… she's g-gone."

"I know, Rosalie. I know, baby. I'm sorry."

"Irina…"

"Rose. You'll get through this. I'm here, baby. I'm here."

I took Edward's hand and led him back out the front door toward his car to get Rosalie's bag. "Is she okay?" he asked. We both had tears in our eyes.

"No. Not right now, but I think she will be. Now that she's letting herself depend on Emmett, she will be."

"Thank God. Whatever came over her today, thank God it did."

I pulled her bag out of the car and slung it over my shoulder. "It was Irina's picture. She found it in her locker. I guess it brought back everything for her all over again. She hasn't stopped crying since we got home." I told him how it started when she held Masen for the first time. He put his arm around me.

"She's been crying this whole time?"

"Almost non-stop."

"Thank you for taking care of her, Bella."

I looked up at him. "Why are you thanking me? Of course I'd help her. She's my friend, too."

"I know she is. I know that. Don't get mad."

I didn't realize I was glaring at him until he said that. I let my face soften. "It's just... the way you said that, it was like she's your responsibility and I was doing you a favor."

"I guess I've felt that way for a while -- like she's my responsibility -- since for so long I was the only one she would even talk to."

I wrapped both of my arms around his waist. "You've done so much for her."

"So have you."

When we re-entered the house, Rosalie was no longer crying. Eyes closed, her head rested on Emmett's shoulder as they sat together on the sofa. I dropped her bag by the front door and pulled Edward by the hand toward the stairs to give them privacy, but he stopped.

"Emmett," he said softly. "If you want to be alone, you can use the baby's room. He still sleeps in our room. My mom will be home soon, so..."

Emmett nodded, lifting Rosalie into his arms as easily as if she were a pillow. He carried her past us and up the stairs.

* * *

**A/N: **Please review, as you generous reviewers keep my inspiration afloat. Click that review button, even if it's your first time. I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	14. Hope

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. **

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 14: Hope

Emmett was himself again, taking every opportunity to corner people into mind-wrestles, which for once was a welcome trait. Rosalie allowed herself to smile more often, even if she wasn't completely her old self. Finally, we were all together as a group, without strain, and that was the best feeling. And now, if any couple was kissing and touching more than Edward and I were, it was Rosalie and Emmett. Emmett could not stop touching her-- it was as though he was afraid she'd float away if he wasn't holding some part of her. He'd experienced that already.

Right after Rosalie's breakdown, Emmett and Rosalie had spent a few days away from the rest of us. And since they were on winter break from school, they'd had entire days and nights to spend together.

While everyone else had time off from studies, I dove into mine. Edward being home throughout the day to watch Masen left me with more time for schoolwork and, like it or not, I had to take advantage of it. After a week spent with my nose in books or my fingers typing out papers on Carlisle's desktop, I agreed to take a break tonight-- we were having dinner at Jasper's.

Alice was playing Christmas carol after Christmas carol on Jasper's stereo, while she hung garlands along the walls. Even standing on the chair, she wasn't very tall, so the garland wasn't much higher than Emmett's head when he stood. He didn't offer to help her, but every so often he would take the opportunity to make fun of her for it.

Not now, though. Now, Emmett was on the sofa, kissing Rosalie's neck and whispering to her, and she was smiling, looking as beautiful as ever, even without makeup.

Alice and I exchanged smiles, too, having both witnessed the same thing. Jasper was cooking in the kitchen with Edward, who was holding Masen. Alice cleared her throat. "Rosalie, do you and Emmett want to go to Jasper's room?"

"Jasper doesn't have a room," Emmett said, lifting up from Rosalie's neck. "He has an area. A partitioned area."

Alice laughed, then hopped off her chair and tugged me into Jasper's _area_.

"Do you think Rosalie's cured?" she whispered.

"Cured?"

"You know what I mean. Do you think she's back for good?"

"I hope so."

"Rosalie told me her aunt and her cousin Kate are moving here next month. I think it will be good for Rosalie to have more family close by."

"Me too. Have you met Kate before?"

"No. I guess they used to live here, but they moved to Alaska when Kate was just a baby. They're moving back to be close to Rosalie's mom after what happened. I guess they could all use family right now."

"What about Rosalie's dad?" I asked.

"He still comes and goes. When he 'comes,' Rose stays with Emmett. Her parents don't even question her about where she's staying now. They've lost her, Bella."

I shook my head. "I hope they get her back."

I thought about my own mom, the close relationship we once shared. Was it the same thing as Rosalie's situation? Had my mom lost me? Or had I lost her?

"Bella," Edward called to me from the kitchen, just around the room divider and no farther than eight steps away. "Jasper, tell her what happened," he said when I got to the stove where they hovered, Masen cradled in Edward's arms.

Jasper looked embarrassed. "The chicken is too dry."

"It does look dry," I said. "Do you have any soy sauce?"

"Soy sauce? For fajitas?"

"Jasper, it's a secret ingredient," I said. "Trust me. Or we could just eat the chicken dry."

"Trust her, J," Edward said.

Jasper opened a drawer and pulled out Chinese take-out soy sauce packets. I added a touch more oil before opening each packet and pouring it over the skillet, stirring with the wooden spoon.

"You are so sexy when you cook," Edward said, lifting my hair to kiss the back of my neck.

"Mmm… you are so sexy all the time."

"I'll rephrase my statement. You are so sexy all the time, but when you cook you're even sexier, and if you were cooking naked..."

"Hey, hey, it stops there when I'm in the room," Jasper said.

Edward leaned to my ear and whispered the rest of his sentence, "...the food would burn."

Jasper groaned. "The sexual tension in this place, man. Sex is oozing from my fucking walls."

I covered Masen's ears. "Not in front of the baby, Jasper."

"Do you hear yourself, Bella? You and Edward were nearly having word-sex right over your baby."

"Word-sex?" I looked at Edward, raising my eyebrows.

"Not a bad idea," Edward said.

"All right," Jasper said. "I'm going to run to the store for, uh, something. Thanks for helping, Bella. Alice!" he called, and they left together. I finished sautéing the chicken while Edward watched with Masen asleep on his shoulder, and who-knows-what Rosalie and Emmett were doing on the couch at this point. I pulled a pan from a cupboard, heated it over the stove, and asked Edward to warm some tortillas. He did it all one-handed.

"You didn't realize you were coming to Jasper's place to cook, did you?" Edward asked.

"I don't mind," I said. "It's been a long time since I've cooked anything."

"Well, you obviously haven't forgotten how."

"It's not something you forget. When we're on our own, I'll cook for you every day."

"Except when I cook for you."

"What are _you_ going to cook? Do you even know how?"

"I have plenty of time to learn," he said.

"I'll teach you."

"Yes, you will." He kissed me. "Good thing Jasper isn't here to stop us this time," he said and kissed me deeper.

"But the food is here to stop us," I said, giving him one last kiss and reluctantly turning back to the stove. "I see what's going to happen if I try to teach you to cook."

"Stop saying 'teach,' or it will happen right now regardless of tonight's dinner."

When Jasper and Alice returned, dinner was ready. Jasper appeared strangely satisfied and much less stiff-- I'd even say he was relaxed. I looked at Alice's wide smile and tugged on her arm, pulling her to the only truly private spot in the apartment: the bathroom.

"Alice! What are you up to?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. When did the two of you start having sex? I thought you were waiting."

"Who says we're having sex?"

"But Jasper, he… and you… you're both..."

"There are other ways to satisfy your significant other apart from intercourse. You should know this, Bella baby." She left me in the bathroom, gaping after her.

Everyone had served themselves when I finally recovered from my shock. "Jasper?" I said because I couldn't stop myself. "What did you get at the store?"

"Huh?" He looked up at me from the kitchen counter, mid-bite, chicken dangling from the bottom of his fajita.

"You said you needed something at the store. You left, and then returned. I was just curious if you had any trouble finding what you needed."

Alice hit my arm, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Jasper. "No trouble at all," he said. "I always know where to find _exactly_ what I'm looking for."

"I'm glad," I said.

"What are you two talking about?" Edward asked from the sofa. He was holding Masen and trying to eat from the plate in his lap at the same time.

"Bella just called him out," Emmett laughed. He had moved to the floor, Rosalie in his lap, while the plate they shared was in hers.

I tried to ignore everyone's laughs. "Here," I said, grabbing for Masen. "Let me hold him while you eat."

"No, go ahead, make yourself a plate," Edward said.

"I want to hold him, Edward. You had him the whole time I was cooking. I miss him."

"Okay," he laughed and handed him over, because he knew exactly how I felt.

"Hi, Mase." He was awake and looking up at me. I gave him a smile and a nose nuzzle, then kissed his head as I sat next to Edward. "Isn't it impossible not to kiss him every five seconds?"

"Between the two of you, my lips are never satisfied. For two different reasons, of course." He kissed me then held his fajita up for me to take a bite.

"Thanks," I said. After my bite, I could have sworn that Masen smiled. "Did you see that?"

"What?" Edward asked, as every pair of eyes in the room shot to me.

"He just smiled. Do it again, Masen. Smile." I smiled at him to show him how, and copied me.

"He sure did smile," Edward said. "Masen, it's your first smile."

"It's beautiful," I said.

"Let me see." Alice took Masen from me and knelt on the floor with him. "Jasper, get your camera. Smile for me, Masen. Smile for me."

Jasper joined Alice, camera ready. "Did he do it?"

"No." She tried to get one out of him a few more times, making faces and raising her voice to a squeak. "Aw, maybe later," she said, handing Masen back to me.

"You should put him down," Rosalie said. "He needs tummy time so he can strengthen his neck muscles."

I looked at Edward and he shrugged.

"You need another book, Bella," Alice said. "I'm on it."

"Do they have a book for every year of the kid's life?" I asked. "Because I am clueless."

"You're fine, Bella," Edward said.

"So, I'm seeing a therapist," Rosalie blurted, obviously not listening to the conversation she'd started. "Emmett talked me into it, and I figured you would all be happy since you agree that I'm crazy."

"You're not crazy," Alice said.

"I was kidding, Alice. Don't you know sarcasm when you hear it?"

"Oh, sorry. I guess I have to get used to it all over again."

"Get used to it."

Alice smiled at her. "Gladly."

"But seriously," Rosalie said, "my therapist thinks I should, you know, say goodbye to Irina. Visit her grave. And I know you've all done that already. Well, except for Bella. But I wondered if you would come with me. All of you."

We all said that of course we would, and I asked when.

"I don't know. I'm not ready yet." She glanced at Emmett, who kissed her. "But I'll let you know when I am."

We all sat quietly, none of us knowing what to say next.

"You can all talk," Rosalie said. "I'm not going to break... anymore."

I caught Alice's eyes, thinking of her 'cured' comment earlier. I wondered if it was true. Tonight was the closest Rosalie had behaved to her old self since the accident. I wasn't completely convinced, though, and Emmett's tight hold on her left me even less convinced. But I would humor her-- give her the benefit of the doubt, and try to treat her like she wanted to be treated, as though she was made of iron and not glass.

* * *

It was Edward who ended up taking Masen and me to a bookstore the following day, where I bought one book about the first year and another on the toddler years. I began reading as soon as we were in the car, but I had to skip the parts about illnesses and disorders before I started projecting them onto my baby.

"Learn anything new?" Edward asked.

"It's all common sense."

"Where's the part about tummy time and all that? Maybe you should just have Rosalie write you a book."

He was driving without the need for windshield wipers, but the fog was thick.

"How can you see where you're going?"

"I can see. Don't worry."

I decided to believe him and refrained from looking out the windshield by flipping through the pages of my book. I found the chapter on developmental stages and dog-eared it.

"Bella, I have to tell you something, but you can't freak out."

"Why would I freak-out? What? Is it good or bad?"

"See, you're already starting. It's not bad. Take a breath and I'll tell you."

I took a breath, but Edward was right; I was already beginning a freak out on the inside, having no idea what was coming.

"I have a second interview for the scholarship."

"Really? Edward, that's… that's…"

"Good. But it's still no guarantee. And… I'm nervous."

"You're nervous? _You_ are nervous?"

"Yes. This interview could make or break my chances. I have no idea what they'll ask me or how I'll answer. I thought I'd answered all their questions already."

"You'll know what to say once they ask. That's your gift, Edward. You always know what to say and you know how to charm. If only there was a woman alumnus involved."

"There is. I met her last time."

My eyes widened. "Edward, you've got it. You may as well ask, 'Where do I sign?' as soon as you walk in."

"Oh yeah, that's sure to impress. Actually, that's something Emmett would do."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

He took my hand and kissed it. "You wouldn't be able to join me in the interview. I don't want you to have to wait."

"I have exciting reading to do while I wait." I waved my new book at him. "I want to go."

"Okay. Then come." He kissed my hand again, then intertwined our fingers. "I want you there."

The day of the interview, my dad babysat Masen for the first time. He greeted baby just like everyone did-- with kisses. He showed me the "travel crib," as he called it, set up in the living room.

"It's a pack-n-play, dad," I said, proud that I actually knew what it was called.

But when it came time to go, it wasn't as easy to leave as I'd thought. This would be the longest I'd be away from Masen, and the farthest. I felt tears sting my eyes.

"Bella," Edward said, rubbing a thumb against my cheek. "You don't have to go."

"Yes I do. I do." I kissed Masen, then my father, and forced myself to follow Edward out the door. He held my hand, which helped-- especially when I glanced back to see my dad take Masen's tiny fist and wave it at me.

Edward pulled up in front of the same enormous house I'd visited months earlier with Emmett. It looked different in the winter-- the lawn covered with snow, the birch trees bare. But the house still loomed into the sky, catching snowflakes on the roof well before any reached the ground. I gave Edward a long good-luck kiss, my tongue reaching for his, drawing gasping breaths from both of us, until he was clutching and pulling at me so hard that he almost had me in his lap. I gave his cheek a kiss before I moved back to my own seat.

"You expect me to go in there and think after that?" he panted.

"Sorry. I couldn't help it. Forget me, think Stanford."

"Forget you? Impossible. One more kiss?" He leaned toward me and I pecked his lips. He laughed. "That's it?"

"You need to concentrate. Go. We'll make out later."

He laughed again and kissed my hand goodbye.

I watched snow cascade over the windshield before I opened the book, my eyes poring over the page, but my brain not transmitting any information. I was nervous for Edward. I checked my watch, but only five minutes had passed, and I had no idea how long it might take him in there. He'd left the car running for heat, so I switched on the radio, but the music was only more noise adding to my already storming thoughts, so I shut it off, and fidgeted with the glove compartment. I tried my book again, tossing it on the floor when that didn't work. I dropped my head to my hands, hoping with all my heart that Edward was doing better than me right now.

He wouldn't get his answer today -- I was sure of that -- but the decision would have to be made soon for admission purposes. If he got the scholarship, everything would be perfect, but if he didn't get it… what would I say? I started to prepare myself for the worst. Would telling him that he had plenty of other options and great colleges to choose from be helpful? He already knew that. I decided right then that I did not want to see the look on his face if he had to tell me he didn't get it.

This train of thought was not helpful to my nerves at all. My body was heating up despite the icy weather, so I yanked the keys out of the ignition, exited the car, and let the snow hit my face. I thought going for a walk might help, but after a few steps, I slipped on the icy sidewalk, landing on my butt. That was my cue to get back in the car and wait, nerves killing me or not.

Finally, Edward opened my door and took my hand. "Come here, Bella."

I stepped out and he held my shoulders, bending down so we were eye-to-eye, and said, "We're moving."

"What?" My heart started beating faster and I wasn't positive why.

"We're moving to Palo Alto, Bella."

"Edward! What?" I understood what he was saying, but I needed him to spell it out for me. I couldn't allow myself even the possibility of misconstruing his words.

"I'm _in_, Bella. This wasn't an interview; this was a confirmation that the scholarship is mine. Do you understand what I'm saying? My tuition will be paid."

I stared at him for a moment, holding my stomach, which suddenly felt like laundry tumbling in a dryer.

"Wait. Are you okay? You look… pale." His eyebrows furrowed and his smile faded.

"Edward. Oh my god. Oh. My. God. I'm just… I can't believe it." My arms flew around his neck and I was kissing all over his face until he laughed. "That's so good. And…" I kissed him. "…unexpected." I kissed him again. "But they told you it was an interview."

"They never said that. Aro's secretary called to say they wanted to meet with me, and I _assumed_ it was an interview. They wanted me here in person to confirm the scholarship, and take a picture for the newspaper."

"Oh my god," I said again, my vocabulary obviously having fled my brain. "Congratulations, Edward. Congratu-fucking-lations!"

"I've got to stop swearing around you," he laughed. "It's rubbing off."

"Sometimes regular words aren't strong enough; _that_ I learned from you. You're going to Stanford, Edward!"

He hugged me and lifted me and spun me around. "I owe it to you, Bella. You never stopped believing."

My legs wrapped his waist as I kissed him.

"Bella," he said. "Your pants are wet."

"I slipped in the snow."

He laughed and kissed me some more. "I love you so fucking much."

"Me too." We continued our kisses as the snow turned our noses pink, and the wind tangled through my hair.

I called Emmett on our way home, but he didn't answer, so I left the message that Edward would be joining him at Stanford. I knew he'd want to be the first to know. We told my dad the news next when we arrived for Masen. My dad hugged us both, then I went directly to Masen, lying on top of a blanket on the floor.

"I missed you, baby," I said, kissing his cheek.

"Hey, little guy." Edward kissed him, too, tugging on his blue bootie-covered foot.

"How was he?" Edward asked.

"Well, he slept, then had a bottle, and then slept some more," my dad said. "So I'd say he was pretty easy."

"Your smart daddy is going to a smart school," I told Masen.

"Please don't say anything like that once we're there," Edward said.

"Does that embarrass you, smart boy?" I reached up to ruffle his hair. "I'm going to say it every day."

"I don't know why I bother trying to stop you; it only makes you worse."

"If you prefer it, I could call you dumb boy."

"Bella," my dad said, "you are so strange."

"I know," I said, "but Edward secretly likes it."

"That's no secret," Edward said. "Don't change your strange ways."

Edward sat with me on the couch while I nursed Masen. My dad's Christmas tree stood in front of the window. It was much bigger than last year's-- taller than me, but shorter than Edward. Sue and her son, Seth, had helped decorate it. Sue's daughter Leah couldn't be bothered to help, according to my dad.

"I'd like you to join me for Christmas, Bella," my dad said. "Sue and her kids will be here-- it will be good for you all to meet."

"Edward, can you come, too?" I asked.

"Yeah. We can do Christmas Eve with my parents."

I smiled at the thought of us making holiday plans together for the first time as a family. "Masen needs a stocking," I said to Edward.

"We'll get him one."

It was already dark when we pulled up to Edward's house. Emmett's Jeep was parked out front, and he was waiting for us in the kitchen, chatting with Esme.

"My son," Esme said, shaking her head and clasping her hands like the proud mother she was. She reached up and held his face. "The only day that tops this one was the day Masen was born." She kissed Edward's smiling cheek. "Emmett and I baked cookies for you." She gestured toward the stove, where the cookies were cooling. "They're not store-bought this time."

"You baked?" I asked Emmett.

He shrugged. "It took you guys _forever_ to get here." He handed Edward a white box tied with a blue ribbon. "This is for you-- something you'll need in California."

"You got him a present?" I asked.

"Yeah, you got me a present?" Edward asked, mimicking my inflection. "Thanks," Edward said in his own voice, taking the box and unwrapping it. I peered into the box as he opened the lid.

"Ray Bans," I said. "You went out and got these today?"

"I bought them a while back. I was going to give them to him even if he didn't get the scholarship. You know, for visits. But I'm relieved they're a congratulations gift and not a condolence gift. Look in the box again."

"Two?" Edward asked.

"One pair's for you, B," Emmett said. "If it weren't for you, Edward wouldn't be Stanford-bound right now."

"We all had our part in that," I said.

"But you're the one who came to me with the idea. You got the wheels turning. He'd already given up on Stanford at that point."

"That's right," Esme said. "Carlisle and Edward talked about how it was no longer an option. Your father, Edward. When he finds out-"

"You haven't told him?" Edward asked.

She shook her head. "I want you to tell him. You deserve to see that look on his face when he hears it from your mouth."

"Try your glasses on," Emmett said.

Edward slipped his pair on first, looking much too good in them. "Some tan California girl is going to snatch you away from me," I said.

"No one's snatching me," he said, putting my pair on me. "I prefer my one pale Washington girl."

After Emmett, left, we put Masen down for the night, then waited for Carlisle in the living room. The last time the three of us had a conversation, it was mortifying. Last week, Carlisle thought it would be a good idea to talk to us about sex... well, birth control, to be exact.

He'd called us down to the kitchen and got right to the point. "I want to make sure you two understand a common misconception about postnatal sex," he said, as Edward and I sat at the table. My hands instantly covered my face.

"Bella, you should know that even though you won't be menstruating while breastfeeding, you can still get pregnant."

"Oh god," I said. I couldn't remove my hands from my face until he left the room. It just wasn't going to happen. Edward laughed and rubbed my back.

"Dad, Bella is on birth-control. Dr. Denali gave her a pill that's safe for the baby."

Why couldn't he have just told his dad that we don't, and never have had sex? It didn't matter to me how unbelievable it was, I just wanted Edward to say it.

"Great," Carlisle said. "Thanks for the talk."

He finally left the kitchen and I dropped my head to the table. "Oh God," I said again.

"It's okay, Bella. It's over," Edward said.

This time, our meeting went much smoother. Carlisle beamed, congratulating and hugging both of us. He kissed my cheek, and there was no mention of sex, or birth-control, or pregnancy.

In bed, we lay together, side-by-side, looking up at the ceiling. "We're moving," I said. "It's official."

"Yeah." Edward's knuckles drifted down my face.

"Are you scared?"

He sighed, and I turned toward him. "Yes," he said.

"Don't say that." I shoved on his stomach and he pulled me into his arms.

"Then don't ask."

I scooted closer, nuzzling my nose into the crook of his neck.

"I'm more excited than I am scared, Bella. You just asked the wrong question."

"Is there anything you want to do before we leave?" I asked. "We have plenty of time to say goodbye to Forks." I kissed his neck because it was right there against my lips.

"Mmm... I want to go out on the lake again, and to our rock by the creek, and sleep in our Port Angeles park."

"Sleep there?"

"Yeah. Don't you remember asking me on your birthday if we could sleep there sometime?"

"I asked if we could sleep under the stars. It doesn't necessarily have to be _there_."

"What about you?" he asked. "What will you miss the most about Forks?"

"My dad," I said. "It's strange, Edward. I've lived with you longer than I lived with my dad when I first moved from Phoenix. But I'm going to miss him so much."

"We'll be sure to spend plenty of time with him before we move."

"Thank you."

He laughed. "Thank _you_, Bella. Thank you for believing in me and never letting me give up, even when I was ready and willing to let it all go."

"You're welcome," I said. "I'd do it all again."

"All of it? Even the pregnancy?"

"Now that we know Masen, yes. All of it. I wouldn't change a thing."

"Neither would I."

* * *

**A/N:** Please review.


	15. Promise

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 15: Promise

In one hand, she clutched yellow roses. In her other hand was her sister's creased and wrinkled picture. She placed the roses in the small hole in front of the gravestone; then she knelt. The way she knelt, it wasn't like she did it out of respect. It was more like she'd lost her strength and had fallen to her knees. Her knuckles were digging into the earth and her head was bowed, blonde hair draping over her shoulders. "I-I can't speak," she said.

Emmett came up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to, Rose. You don't have to say anything."

She didn't turn to look at him, but she nodded, chin to chest.

I pulled my coat tighter around me, and Edward took my gloved hand.

Rosalie began to whisper. I couldn't completely make out what she was saying, but I heard, "my sister," on repeat at one point. When her shoulders shook with sobs, Emmett lifted her into his arms, holding her close against his chest where she cried. She glanced back at the gravestone, and pushed Emmett away with such force that he actually backed up.

She picked up the roses and tossed them aside. "Why did I get yellow roses?"

"They were Irina's favorite," Edward said. "You told me that."

"They're too cheerful. It's not right. I should have brought white, peaceful. What was I thinking?"

"You were thinking of your sister, Rose. Yellow is perfect," Emmett said, reaching for her elbow, then stopping himself.

The wind picked up, scattering the roses over the ground, and Jasper quickly gathered them before they blew away. He held them to his side and looked at Rosalie, watching her like the rest of us were, waiting to see what she would do or say next.

"Edward!" Rosalie turned from the gravestone to face him. "It's wrong. This is wrong, and you know it!"

Edward was at her side in an instant, holding her, trying to quiet her. "No it isn't, Rosalie. This is the way it's supposed to be. I'm sorry, sweetie. I know you're hurting, and it's not fair, but this is how it is."

Emmett looked at me with questions in his expression. My expression may have matched his as I shrugged.

"Emmett," Rosalie said into Edward's shoulder, and he turned and handed Rosalie over to Emmett.

Jasper placed the flowers, minus a few petals, back in their place in the ground, then took Alice's hand. "We have to go, you guys," he said. "Rosalie should have some time alone."

"Thank you, Jasper," Rosalie whispered.

We trudged through sporadic patches of snow on our way to the parking lot.

In the car, Edward's eyes dripped tears. I crawled into his lap, ignoring the steering wheel digging into my side. I pulled his head to my shoulder and he kissed the side of my neck.

"I love you, Edward."

"I love you too, Bella." He squeezed me tight for a few moments, and when he released me, I moved off his lap, back to my own seat.

"What happened back there? What did Rosalie mean when she said, 'this is wrong'?"

He dropped his head back against the seat, his adam's apple protruding with his swallow. He closed his eyes, and I waited. Apparently, I was waiting for nothing.

"Let's go home," he said when he opened his eyes. He started the car, put it in gear and drove off. I knew he'd heard my question; he was purposely ignoring me. After all that had just happened, I didn't want to be angry with him, but I couldn't help it. I rested back in my seat, took a deep breath, and swallowed the spiteful words that threatened to pounce from my mouth.

Neither of us said anything to each other the entire trip home, nor when we entered the house, nor when we took turns hugging and kissing Masen.

Although Edward wasn't speaking to me, he spoke to Masen, holding him close, lips over his head. "I missed you, little guy." He sat with Masen on the sofa. "Did you have fun with Grandma?" he asked, holding Masen out so he could look at his face, as if Masen would answer and tell him all about the fun he'd had with Esme while Mommy and Daddy were out. Edward had not so much as glanced in my direction, and the anger that had taken root in my stomach grew. I grabbed Masen from him, and not carefully.

"He's hungry," I said, taking my baby upstairs with me to nurse him on the bed instead of on the living-room rocker. I thought that maybe Edward would follow, if for no other reason than to be close to Masen, but he didn't come. Masen fell asleep on me, and I held him to my chest.

I knew that Edward was avoiding me because he didn't want me to ask questions. But whatever this secret with Rosalie was, why was it so important for him to keep it from me? Should I let it go? Obviously that was what he wanted me to do. But why?

I rested Masen in his bassinet and watched his head fall to the side, his mouth suckling as if still nursing.

Edward was in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher. He didn't acknowledge me when I entered. I felt distant from him--locked out and alone, with misplaced keys.

"Hey," I said, just to see if he'd answer back.

"Hey," he said, his eyes focused on his chore.

"Where did your mom go?"

"Port Angeles."

"Oh." I sat at the table. "Why?"

"She needed something, I guess. I didn't ask her."

Frustration filled me--his short answers, his gruff voice. I wanted to walk out and slam a door or something. But the only door in here was the sliding glass door--not easily slammed.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked, my own voice as harsh as his.

"I don't know, Bella. Could it be that my best friend said goodbye to her sister today and I had to do it as well, for the second time?"

"No," I said, and his head turned instantly, eyes finally on mine.

"No?" he scoffed. "Then what is it? Tell me what I'm feeling, if you know."

"I _don't_ know because you're avoiding me."

"I'm not avoiding you."

"What do you call it?"

"Doing dishes, like my mother asked of me."

"Edward, are we going to play this game, or are you going to talk to me?"

"Bella, stop! Please!" He slammed a plate down on the counter and dropped his head to his hands, covering his face, then pushing up, his fingers in his hair. "Fuck."

A part of me wanted to go to him, touch his arm, softly turn him to me, comfort him. But a bigger part of me was suffocating in the anger that had lodged its way into my throat.

"Edward! You promised me you would tell me what happened with Rosalie. I agreed to let it go on my birthday, as confusing as everything was because you _promised_ me. You told me to trust you, and I did, Edward! I trusted you without question just because you asked me to. I did that for you. And what are you doing for me? Are you going to break that trust? Are you going to give me the first reason in our _entire_ relationship not to trust you?"

He looked at me again, held my gaze--his soft, mine stern. He shook his head. "I don't want to do that."

"Then don't."

"Bella, please." This time his voice was gentle in its pleading. "I can't tell you. Not today. Don't be angry with me."

It was my turn to scoff. "You _telling_ me not to be angry doesn't work, Edward. Unless you want me to lie to you about my feelings. I could tell you that everything is fine, and that I would never be angry at perfect you. Is that what you want to hear? A lie?"

I didn't give him time to answer. I was already out of the kitchen and on my way upstairs. He took my arm and spun me around as I reached for our bedroom door. "Not in there," he said, pulling me into the baby's room. "I can't say it in front of Masen, even if he's sleeping and can't hear me."

"Sit down," he said, and I obeyed, taking a seat on my old bed. He went over to the only window in the room, peering out, standing in silence for too long.

"Edward?"

"Look, Bella, this is hard for me to tell you."

He came to me, knelt on the floor and took my hands, looking up at me. If anyone else had seen us at that moment, it would have appeared as though he was about to propose to me.

"Just… say it."

"I'm sorry, Bella. I'm sorry for what I have to tell you." He reached up to touch my hair. "I don't want to. But if I don't, you won't trust me anymore, and I don't know what's worse."

"We can't have secrets between us, Edward. We've talked about that before."

He nodded. "When Rosalie was in the hospital, when I stayed with her that first night, she told me that… she told me she wanted to die. She said that the wrong sister was killed in the accident, and the next time she got behind the wheel, she would drive herself off the road, the way it was meant to be. But you know how she was back then. She didn't just say it. She yelled it."

My hand flew to my mouth. I was stunned into silence. My heart may have paused for a second while my brain stopped working for quite some time. Edward's thumb rubbed my fingers, and I breathed again. I hadn't known what to expect, but it wasn't this. "Edward."

"I know, Bella. I'm sorry." He let his knuckles drift over my face and I closed my eyes.

"Suicide?"

"I couldn't take any chances. She wouldn't talk to anyone else about it. She swore to me that she wasn't going to do anything, but I couldn't ignore it."

"You've held this in all this time? Didn't tell anybody? Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I almost did. The day Rosalie was discharged from the hospital, when we talked about smoking and Rosalie's thoughts on her sister's death, I almost told you. But I couldn't bring myself to put this on you. You were pregnant. I had no idea what hearing this could do to you."

"But I haven't been pregnant for three months…"

"I know. I was hoping it would go away, that you would stop asking me about it. I didn't want to make you feel like this… like me." He brought my hand with his to cover his heart. In my own chest, I could almost feel the tightness that must have resided in his, but I imagined his was worse.

I flattened my hand against his heart and felt it beat. "Thank you for telling me."

"You're thanking me?"

"I know that it was difficult for you, and that you wanted to protect my feelings, but you can't keep something like this to yourself. It's too much." Tears burned my eyes, and I tried with everything I had to hold them back, not wanting to make this any more difficult on him than it was. A few leaked down my face anyway, and he stopped them before they dripped off my face.

"But shouldn't we tell someone? Her mom or Emmett, or a doctor. Your dad, even?"

"I thought so at first. But Rosalie had me promise not to. She told me later they were all just words, she hadn't meant she would act on them. She said, if she could, she would die in her sister's place, but taking her own life wouldn't bring Irina back."

"And you believed her."

"I don't know. I was scared. I promised her I wouldn't tell anyone, but I couldn't take any chances of leaving her alone when she needed me. Do you understand that, Bella, or does it sound crazy?"

I shook my head. "I've never been in a situation like this before. I wouldn't know what would be the right thing to do."

"Neither did I. I only know I wanted to protect you from this, and Rosalie from herself. Maybe I went about it all wrong, but now you know." He shook his head. "I shouldn't have told you. I could have earned your trust back if you lost it for a little while, but this is-"

"No. I'm glad you told me. We're not alone in this. We have each other. That's how it should be. Not alone. Neither one of us."

"You're right, Bella. We're not alone." He kissed me, showing me how together we were. I trusted him and he trusted me, and amidst this new knowledge, that trust was stronger. He pulled my shirt off, kissed down my neck, then lifted me under my arms to move me to the top of the bed before kissing me farther down my chest, slipping me out of my bra, his lips finding my breasts. His kisses inched down my stomach achingly slow until my back arched and his fingers started to undo my pants. That was when we heard Masen's cry. We both froze and listened. The cry stopped, and Edward continued with my button and zipper. Masen cried again, louder.

"Oh no," Edward said against my tummy. "No, no, no. Not now."

I reached down, lifted his head and pulled him toward me until his lips were on mine again. I kissed him, not helping either one of us in our battle for responsibility. Masen's cries turned into wails. "It's okay," I breathed into Edward's mouth. "I'll get him. This is what it means to be a parent." I kissed him one more time, then re-dressed myself to go to Masen. Edward followed me.

"He's wet," I said. "Will you hand me a diaper?"

Edward took a diaper from the drawer, then took Masen from me. "I'll change him."

He laid Masen on the bed, and as soon as he had the soiled diaper off, Masen started peeing. He peed right in Edward's face. Edward moved as quickly as he could, covering Masen with the old diaper to stop the flow. I couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

"Gross," he said, wiping his eyes.

I laughed harder, stumbling over to finish Masen's change so Edward could wash his face.

"I'm glad you find this entertaining," Edward said before entering his bathroom.

I was still laughing when Edward exited the bathroom with a clean face. "Don't you remember the hospital nurse advising us to keep his area covered at all times while changing? Just the feeling of the cool air will make him pee," I laughed again.

"I'll remember _this_," he said, kissing me. "When he pees on _you_, I'll remember exactly how you laughed at me."

"He won't pee on me," I said. "I know how to change a diaper." I lifted Masen to me, kissed him, then handed him to Edward. "Here," I said. "I have to wash your comforter. We are not sleeping in Masen pee tonight."

"Look how much our plans changed in a matter of minutes," Edward said. "What were we doing five minutes ago?" He kissed my neck as if to remind me. As if without that, I could have possibly forgotten. "And now we're doing laundry."

"That's right," I touched his nose. "Isn't it sexy?" I turned to yank the comforter off.

"You are," he said, his hand sliding over my hip.

I gathered the comforter into my arms, turned and pecked Edward's lips. "Stop making this harder on yourself…" I left the room, "and me."

I fell asleep early that night while giving Masen his last feeding. Edward must have moved him to his bassinet and covered me up at some point. That hadn't awakened me, but later he woke me on purpose. "Bella," he whispered.

I shook his hand from my shoulder. "Not now, Edward," I mumbled. "I'm sleeping."

"Bella," he whispered again. "I'm going down to play the piano. Do you want to come?"

I opened my eyes. "You kept your promise."

"I will keep every promise from now on. Do you want to join me?" He stood next to the bed and held a hand out for me. I took it with a yawn.

We walked downstairs together, his arm draped over my shoulders. "So you'll get up for this, but when you thought I wanted sex, you denied me?"

"Shh," I said, too tired to talk about it.

"A few kisses in the right places, and I would have been able to talk you into it."

"I know. And it's both wonderful and sucky that you know that."

"Why?"

"Because sometimes a person just needs to sleep."

"But not when piano is being played?"

"Exactly. Now go do your thing." I lay down on the sofa while he began to play.

"Clair de Lune," I said, and the music stopped.

"Yeah, you recognized it." He started over again.

I gazed out the window as he played. Now, mid-January, the Christmas tree was no longer there to block my view.

I remembered Christmas Eve, when Carlisle and Esme had given Masen his first glass ornament. It was a baby in a carriage, and Esme had invited me to add it to the tree.

"Look at your beautiful ornament." I held the ornament in front of Masen, and he watched it sparkle and spin above him as he rested in Esme's arms. The other gift they gave him was a toy piano. That gift had Edward smiling from ear to ear. He started playing with it, as if it were meant for him, but his fingers were too big and the songs didn't come out right.

Now, on the sofa, I looked at the ring on my left hand, then touched my bracelet, then brought my fingers to the necklace--my newest gift from Edward.

"What's that?" he'd said after he'd given up on Masen's piano. "There in the middle of the tree." He pointed.

"What? The bent branch?"

"Yeah, the branch," he rolled his eyes at me. "No, what is on the branch? Go look, smart ass."

"Edward," Carlisle said, "what kind of thing is that to call her?"

"She knows I'm kidding. Don't you, love?"

"_Love_ is better than _smart ass_," I said, looking the tree over. I found a tiny package on the twisted branch. That branch had been damaged in storage, and it seemed to be the most beloved part of the tree in this family. That was something I could _completely_ understand--loving the damaged part of the tree and showcasing it, instead of hiding it in the back, or getting rid of the fake tree altogether.

I brought the small box to Edward, handing it to him. "It's yours," he said. "Open it."

I unwrapped it slowly, starting with the gold tie, and for some odd reason, was careful not to tear the paper.

"Don't worry about the wrapping paper. It's too small to reuse," Edward said.

Still, I remained slow and careful in my unwrapping. It was nerves. The small package, being watched--I didn't like that sort of attention. I held up the gold necklace, fingering the small opal pendent hanging from it. "It's so beautiful."

"It's Masen's birthstone," Edward said, taking it from me. "Turn around. I'll put it on for you."

His fingers tickled the back of my neck as he clasped the chain. He followed up with a kiss, bringing goosebumps up and down my arms.

"I love it," I said.

"I'm glad."

"It's gorgeous," Esme said, and I touched it just as I touched it now on the sofa.

Edward's piano playing continued, and I closed my eyes, thinking of how opposite the two Christmas celebrations had felt--the Cullens' and my dad's.

At my dad's Sue had roasted a turkey, which was lovely, and Seth was all smiles, which was also lovely, but Leah, up in my room, was anything but lovely. I'd felt a tinge of resentment when my dad told me she'd spent the night in my room. But then I was reminded that it was no longer technically my room.

"Hi," I said. She was sitting at the desk, internet surfing. I held my hand out to shake hers, but she didn't take it.

She flung her slick, black hair over her shoulder. "I thought Edward Cullen's girlfriend would look different."

"What did you expect?"

"Knowing how gorgeous he is, I thought you'd be a supermodel."

"Sorry to disappoint you. So you already know Edward, then?"

"Not exactly, but just because I live on the reservation doesn't mean I'm oblivious. Every girl knows who Edward is."

I nodded.

"You sure took advantage of your good fortune."

"What do you mean?"

"You got yourself pregnant. Hooked him real good, didn't you? I should try that with my boyfriend. Keep Sam loyal for life. Oh wait, that's an impossibility since he already left me for someone else."

I frowned at her. Was she blaming me for that? I'd never met either of them.

"Leah, you have no idea what you're talking about. Besides, getting pregnant doesn't _hook_ a man. Edward would be loyal either way because he's a good guy. There aren't many like him."

"Well, you're a little self-righteous, aren't you?"

I turned away from her before this turned into an argument, and went down to Edward. My dad was laying Masen in his pack-n-play, and I opened Edward's arms, wrapping them around me the way Alice sometimes did with Jasper. "You okay?" he asked, kissing my head.

I nodded. "I'm lucky to have you."

"What's this about?" he laughed. "You know I'm the lucky one."

I shook my head. "I am. Just let me say it. Let me have that."

"Sure, Bella. If you feel lucky to have me, then you'll be lucky for your entire life."

"Good. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, love."

"I'm sorry I didn't get you a present."

"Bella, I didn't give you the necklace expecting anything in return. I wanted you to have something that was just for you, just from me. I've never given you anything that wasn't a hand-me-down."

"Someday I'll get you a present, Edward. When I can afford it, and you least expect it."

Leah descended the stairs and laughed loudly. "Did I touch a nerve?" she asked.

I stepped out of Edward's embrace, but he brought me back to him. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," I said, as fast as I could--before Leah had the chance to answer.

"Yeah," she said, "nothing. I'm Leah, by the way." She stuck her hand out for him and he shook it. "You're Edward?" she asked as if she didn't know.

"Yes."

"And just as handsome as everyone says." She glanced at me, then wandered into the kitchen.

"I don't like her," I said, and Edward laughed. "You think I'm kidding?"

"What's wrong with her?"

"Let me put it this way. If she went to Forks High, she'd be best friends with Lauren Mallory."

Edward cringed. "That bad, huh?"

"I think Leah's worse, because unlike Lauren, I'm forced to spend time with her."

Sue called us to the kitchen for dinner, and everyone else was seated when we walked in. Leah and Seth were across from each other, which meant that I either had to sit by Leah, or subject Edward to her. I let Edward sit next to Seth.

We barely had ourselves served when Leah continued her berating of me. "Mom, you were right."

"About what, hon?" Sue asked.

"There's a lot I can learn from Bella. She's already taught me how a girl like me can land a guy like Edward. Give it up to him right away, and find myself…" she eyed me, "with his child."

Edward's eyes shot to mine, my dad coughed, and Sue yelled, "Leah!"

Seth was the only one who laughed. He nearly choked on his milk, he laughed so hard. "Sorry," he said, holding his stomach. "Sorry."

"What's so funny?" Leah asked.

"You are. Leah, you're sitting here thinking you're picking on Bella, but really you're showing everyone how jealous you are. It's funny." He laughed again.

The rest of us joined Seth's laughter. All but Leah, that is. While we had all been ready to bite back, it was fifteen-year-old Seth who'd put everything into perspective for us.

"Seth! How can you laugh at me when you know what Sam did to me?" Leah said.

"What did Sam do to you?" Sue asked.

"He cheated on her," Seth said.

"Sam?" asked Sue. "No, not Sam. Are you sure, honey?"

Leah was too busy glaring at Seth to answer.

"Oh, she's sure. She caught Sam and Em-"

"Seth! Shut up!" Leah said, and her mom chastised her again.

Edward and I had our eyes locked on each other, small smiles spreading into big smiles. For once, we weren't the center of the dinner-party drama. We could sit quietly eating, eyes on each other, while the people around us worked out their problems, and thanks to Seth, Edward and I weren't involved. Edward hooked his foot around my ankle, and my smile grew.

I smiled again now, at the memory, with Edward's music playing behind me. I went to him and rested my chin on his shoulder, watching his fingers breeze over the keys.

He stopped, and the silence was abrupt. "Are you ready to go back to bed?" he asked.

I nodded against his shoulder.

Upstairs, we climbed into bed, facing each other, and he kissed me goodnight.

"Edward?"

"Yes?" His breath was warm on my face.

"Kiss me in the right places?"

"Bella, I'll kiss you in every place." He started with my lips, then around my face, and down my jaw, my neck, my chest, and over my shirt, until he removed it to find my skin. "Mm… better," he said.

"I love it when you kiss me," I whispered.

"Me too," he said at my waist, then kissed down my hip, as he pushed my sweats over my thighs, his kisses following. Over my knee, down my calf to my ankle, and the sweats were off. When he got to the tip of my big toe, he stopped.

"Why do you end here?"

"Because I'm short."

"I want more of you."

"There's no more."

He ignored that, rolled me over, and began kissing the same toe. I giggled when his lips met the sole of my foot, and then again when he kissed the back of my knee. As he made his way up my thigh, my laughing and wiggling stopped. Instead, he had me yearning, gasping, and whimpering for more. His lips and breath whispered across the small of my back. "You're neverending," he said. He kissed his way up my spine. "I've found a way to kiss you forever." He kissed between my shoulder blades, and up the back of my neck, pushing my hair aside. Then he turned me around again, his lips on mine.

"Kiss me forever," I whispered into his mouth.

"Do you want me to start again?" He'd asked the question, but his lips had already begun their journey over my body. His mouth and tongue explored every place imaginable, and he didn't pause until my own desire had me begging him to stop.

"Edward… Edward, stop," I gasped. "I want you inside me." He did what I asked. With one quiet groan, he was inside me.

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**A/N: **Please remember to review. :)

Oh, I have a lot of people asking how long this will be, and while it's not yet completed, it will be at least 24-25 chapters, and we will follow them to Stanford.


	16. Escape

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

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Not Without You

Chapter 16: Escape

It was Sunday, and I'd left Masen with Edward so I could be free to see Rosalie. Her mother took my coat, directing me to Rosalie's room. She was reading on the bed when I walked in. Dresses and skirts were strewn about, surrounding her on top of the comforter, some having fallen to the floor. Every other time I'd been in her room, nothing had ever been out of place.

"The door was open," I said, feeling much like an intruder.

"Hey, Bella." She sat up, giving me a half smile. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail and she was dressed just like me, jeans and a tee.

"How are you?"

She stood up and started gathering the clothes. "I was just going through my things. I never wear this crap anymore. I'm sure it's too big for you, but if you want any of it, it's yours." She pushed the bunched up pile of dresses at me. I took them, noting that she hadn't answered my question.

"How are you, Rosalie?" I set the pile of dresses back on the bed.

"Fine," she grinned, as if to prove it was true.

I stared at her for a minute, and she stared back.

"Okay, I'm not exactly _fine_, but it's another day, right?"

I nodded. "You know you can talk to me anytime you want, about anything. I'm not saying that you do have anything to talk about, but if you did, I'm here."

"Same goes for you. Oh! I just remembered." She opened her bedside-table drawer and pulled out a book. "Here." She handed me my copy of _The Sun Also Rises._"It was really good. Thanks for suggesting it."

"So you _like_ Hemingway now?"

"I didn't say that. I liked the story; that doesn't mean I like the guy. It's sad, the protagonist couldn't be with the woman he loved. For a silly reason, too. That would never happen now days. I mean, they have treatments for that kind of problem."

"If he'd been treated, do you think they would have ended up together?" I sat on the bed.

She took a minute to think about it. "I don't know. Maybe they had been through too much. It was painful for him to see her with all those other guys. Maybe he couldn't have gotten past that. What do you think?"

"I'd like to think so. It's amazing what people can get past."

Then it was Rosalie who eyed _me_. "Is there something you're trying to get at?"

"I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I am."

"Are you sure?"

She sank to the bed on the opposite side of me, and examined the floor for a minute. "Edward told you?" She paused, but I didn't answer. "Look, I was angry and in shock. Nothing's going to happen. You don't have to worry about me, Bella. I can't even believe he told you. He knows I'm better now, and he promised he wouldn't tell anybody. But of course he would tell you."

"He had to tell me."

"No he didn't. Edward doesn't _have_ to do anything."

"He didn't want to talk about it; I forced it out of him."

"I don't doubt it. When it comes to you, that boy is like mush. Like putty."

"Either way, he shouldn't be holding something like that in."

She laughed and looked over at me. "It's nothing, Bella. I've tried to tell him that a million times."

"It isn't nothing. You brought it up again at the cemetery. You said, 'This is wrong and you know it.' Even if you weren't going to go through with it, that's how you were feeling and it can't be ignored."

"Now you sound like my therapist."

"She must be a smart woman," I said.

Rosalie laughed. Then she surprised me by coming over and giving me a hug. "I'm okay," she said, squeezing me tighter. "I'm going to be fine."

"Does Emmett know?"

She pulled away from me. "No, and I'm not going to tell him, and neither are you. You won't tell anyone, will you? I don't want people wondering and worrying about me all the time."

"Rosalie," I said, my eyes teary, "if something happens, and I didn't tell anyone, that would-"

"Nothing will happen. I promise you that, Bella. See, look at you. You're crying." She swiped a tear from under my eye. "That's what I don't want. Emmett barely gives me any space now as it is. What do you think will happen to him if he knows?"

"Tell me that you told your therapist about it, or will tell her, and I'll try to let it go."

"I told her. I told her everything I've felt. And my dad…" she sat in her desk chair. "he knows, too. Sometimes he goes to therapy with me--my mom makes him." She shook her head. "If he didn't think his marriage might end, he wouldn't go. He can barely look at me, but I don't care. I don't want him looking at me."

"Do you blame him for what happened?"

"No. It was my fault."

"You still believe that?"

"Bella, I know it was out of my hands, and I know I didn't _do_ it. But it could have been prevented, and it wasn't, because of me. I have to learn to live with that, don't I?"

"You can't know that. Regardless of what happened before the accident, the deer was still there; your dad still would have had to swerve. No one knows what the outcome would have been."

"Where's your baby? Where's Masen?"

I sighed and answered her, allowing her to change the subject. "He's home with Edward."

"Bring him next time. I miss him."

"You can come and see him anytime you want. I know things got weird between us, but that's in the past. You are welcome there, no matter what you think in your overactive mind."

"Thanks." She looked over at her clock. "I'll be right back." She left her room, returning with a big black bag, and began filling it with her clothing. "Alice will be here soon. I might as well clean up for her. Are you going to her party next month?"

"What party?"

I didn't know why that made her laugh, but it did. "She said her mom's going on a business trip the weekend after her birthday, so she's throwing herself a party. She's inviting everyone and anyone." She rolled her eyes.

"Sounds fun." I rolled my eyes back at her. "But I'll go for Alice."

"Me too. Kate will be here by then. You'll get to meet her."

"Your cousin?"

"Yeah. You'll love her, Bella. She's a lot like you. Kate may be my family, but she's a _way_ better person than I am."

"Don't say that, Rosalie. You're a good person."

"Whatever. We both know what I'm like. Stop kissing my ass." She laughed.

And there she was, right in front of me--the old Rosalie. I kissed her cheek. Maybe, somehow, we could get her back for good, and not just for a few minutes at a time.

Alice barged through the door and announced we were all going out. "Get dressed," she told Rosalie. "We're escaping to Port Angeles, and yes, I have _permission_ from Emmett to whisk you away tonight."

"Why Port Angeles? And I'm already dressed."

Alice looked her over and raised her eyebrows. "Don't ask questions, let's go."

"Wait," I said when Alice grabbed my hand. "I have to go home first. I have to see Masen before I leave town."

They followed me in Rosalie's car to the Cullens' house, where I filled Edward in on all I knew of the plans. I nursed Masen so he would be full, and I would be comfortable while away. From the sofa, I heard giggles out of Rosalie and Alice in the kitchen. It made me smile. Edward's kisses along my cheekbone made my smile grow.

"I'm glad you're getting out," he said. "But I haven't seen you all day."

"I'll miss you, too. Rosalie is doing so well today, though. This idea is perfect for her. Alice is a genius sometimes."

We left snow-covered Forks, and several Alice-stories later, entered rain-soaked Port Angleles. Amidst all her chatter, Alice refused to tell us what her plans were, until the diner's service was too slow, and she had to complain.

"Is there any way you can be quicker about this? We have a movie to catch," she said to our waiter, with her nose-crinkle grin.

The diner Alice had chosen was all rust-colored, vinyl-covered booths, and seemed to be the hangout spot for anyone under thirty. Even with Rosalie's casual dress and bare face, random guys, and some girls, kept staring at her. She was so used to being gawked at that she didn't even notice. One guy worked up the nerve to approach her. He came to our table--his forehead shimmery with perspiration--and asked if she was an actress. He said she looked very familiar and beautiful.

"Thank you, but I'm no one," she said without a glance up. "Don't talk to me."

He left like a puppy dog, head bowed with his tail between his legs. Alice laughed, while I felt a bit bad for the guy.

Twice during dinner, and once before the movie started, I'd called Edward to check on Masen. Even if I had to endure Alice's teasing throughout the third phone call, I couldn't stop myself.

The movie was a romantic comedy that Alice laughed her way through, and Rosalie complained her way through. "I thought this was supposed to be fun," Rosalie said. "This movie is all kinds of predictable."

"Loosen up," Alice said, tossing popcorn at Rosalie. "The humor is witty."

Rosalie cupped popcorn from her bucket, and flung it in Alice's face. "Next time,_ I_ choose the movie. This is torturous. How does that woman not have a clue that that idiot loves her? I want to slap sense into her."

"She probably lacks the confidence to recognize it. Now shut up before I kick you out. You're ruining the movie."

"Believe me, this movie doesn't need my help in ruining it."

I laughed at how completely different the three of us were, yet still best friends.

"Don't take her side, Bella," Alice said, reaching across Rosalie to hit my knee.

"I'm not," I whispered. "I can't help it if you two are funnier than the movie."

* * *

On our way home, Rosalie was pumping gas, when Alice leaned forward from the backseat. "She's been herself all night. Not one sad moment."

"I know." I smiled at her.

"Now if we could just get her in some makeup."

"Why is that a must?"

"I know why _you_ don't think it is, but it's not Rosalie to go out without it. Before, she wouldn't even leave her house without putting something on her face."

"Baby steps," I told her, "don't push it."

As Rosalie began to pull out of the driveway, a car came up beside us, and the driver flashed a badge. He pointed for Rosalie to pull to the right.

"Why is he pulling me over?" she asked. "He's not even in a police car."

"Maybe he's undercover," Alice said. "Did you not come to a complete stop, or something?"

"I didn't do anything wrong."

"Maybe a taillight is out," Alice said.

"Should I pull over, Bella?"

I rolled down my window. So did the driver next to us. There were two men in the car, neither in uniform.

"You need to pull over," the driver said. He appeared to be in his late twenties, his face unshaven and his hair straggly under his ball cap.

"Why?"

"Outdated registration."

I looked at Rosalie and she shook her head.

"My dad is the police chief," I called to him.

"That doesn't make you above the law," the man said and laughed. His laugh was more like a snicker--an ugly, wet sound that oozed out through his teeth. The passenger laughed, too.

"Drive," I said to Rosalie, rolling up my window.

I looked back. The car was behind us and following closely.

"Turn here," I said. Rosalie turned. It was a residential area. I figured that if anything happened, there would at least be people around who might help us. I glanced back, and the car was still tailing us.

"Why are they following us?" Rosalie asked, continuing up the hill. "Go away!" she said into her rearview mirror.

"Alice, call the police," I said.

"Why am I driving? I shouldn't be driving," Rosalie said, her hands shaking on the steering wheel.

"You're doing fine," I said, but as we continued up the hill, and the men weren't backing off, I started to fill with panic as well. I dialed Edward's phone number.

"What street are we on?" Alice asked.

Rosalie kept her eyes intent on the road, not even attempting to look at the street signs.

"We're on Thomas Street," I said. "and we've just passed Matmor."

"What?" Edward said. I hadn't heard him answer.

"Edward! Two men pretending to be cops are following us, and we don't know where we're going," I said, just then realizing the extent of my panic.

"Bella, where are you? Are you okay?"

I looked at our surroundings again, describing them to Edward. The higher up the hill we drove, the less street lights there were, until there were none. As the street got darker, the trees got larger and more dense, and the road narrowed. "What should we do?" I asked Edward. "Alice called the police, but they're not here yet."

"What did he say?" Rosalie asked.

"Shh," I said, trying to hear Edward, but it didn't matter because new panic rushed through me as I saw that we were coming to the end of the road. "No," I said, and looked back at the tailing car again.

"What do I do? What do I do?" Rosalie asked.

"Bella, love, what's wrong?" Edward asked.

"It's a dead-end," I practically whispered, fear taking my voice and burning my eyes. Alice had said the same thing into her phone, but louder.

"Is there anywhere to turn? Another street?" Edward asked.

"No. We passed them all."

"Okay, tell Rosalie not to stop. She has to turn around, but she can't stop." I repeated Edward's words to Rosalie, then I looked back again. The other car had come to a stop behind us. My tears fell then.

"What if they try to run into me?" Rosalie asked, turning the car.

"They won't do that," I said.

"How do you know?" she asked.

"Because they're waiting for us."

"Bella!" Edward said. "Whatever happens, don't hang up, okay? Please don't hang up. Are you okay?"

"I-I don't know. They've turned sideways, their car is blocking the road in front of us."

Rosalie stopped. She had no choice. "Somebody hand me my phone!"

Alice was crying in the backseat, her phone to her ear. "The police are on their way," she said, tossing me Rosalie's phone and I handed it over. "They won't let me hang up, but I want to call Jasper." I reached back and squeezed Alice's hand.

"What's going on, now?" Edward asked.

I faced forward. "They're getting out." Each man left his door open, moved to the front of the car, then froze, staring at us.

"What are they doing?" Alice asked.

"They're trying to scare us," I said and closed my eyes, because it was working. I had to block out the image of those men, standing there, legs apart, arms folded. "Edward."

"Bella, is there anything you can use to defend yourself?"

I had to open my eyes to look. The cigarette lighter was the only thing I saw. I pushed it in, heating it up. The two men started making their way toward us. I squeezed my eyes shut, and saw Edward and Masen behind my eyelids. Masen, my baby--he needed me. "I love you, Edward."

"Bella, don't say that right now."

"It's true."

"I know it is, love. I love you, too, with everything I have, okay? But you're going to get out of this. You're going to be fine. You have to be!"

I opened my eyes again, and there they were. One man approached Rosalie's side and the other was on mine. I double checked the locks. The man on Rosalie's side knocked on the window with his fist.

"Get away from us!" Alice shouted from the back.

He flashed his badge. "I need you to step out of the car," he said.

Rosalie stared straight ahead and didn't respond. She had Emmett on the phone, but she wasn't saying anything.

"Bella," Edward said, "are you still there? Talk to me!"

I searched for my voice. "I'm here," I whispered, sinking low in my seat and closing my eyes again. "What's Masen doing?"

"He's sleeping, love. He's waiting for you." I heard Edward's voice crack. He was nervous, and my panic grew. The man on my side of the car hit my window, too. I jumped, but didn't open my eyes.

"Is Masen with you? Kiss him for me, Edward."

"He's right here in his bed. I kissed him, love."

"I wish you were here," I said quickly into the phone. "I wish I was with you both."

"Me too, Bella. You don't know how badly I wish that. But you will be. You'll be here tonight."

I nodded as if he could see me, then gasped as the man hit my window harder.

"What is it?" Edward asked.

"N-nothing." I couldn't see the point in telling him. There was nothing Edward could do. He must have felt so helpless.

"Bella, please tell me. I need to know."

"He's knocking on my window."

"Does he have a weapon or anything he might break the window with?"

"He's only using his fist right now, but I can't look at him."

"You don't have to look at him, baby. Picture me. I'm looking at you, Bella. I see you. Can you see me?"

"Yes, Edward. I see you."

"Smile at me, Bella. Give me your beautiful smile."

I tried to smile as tears dripped through my closed eyes and over my cheeks.

"The police!" Alice said, and I opened my eyes to see the most welcomed sight of flashing red and blue.

"Thank god," Edward said, having heard Alice. "Bella, you're okay, right?"

"Yes." Relief flooded through me, sharing space with the panic that hadn't completely vacated.

The two men took off for their car and spun away. One cop car followed them, as the other one continued toward us.

"Here." Rosalie offered Alice her phone. "Jasper's with Emmet. He wants to talk to you."

"Stay on the line," Edward said to me. "Remember that night last year when you didn't want me to hang up? I don't want you to hang up. I want you to stay on the phone with me until you're inside this house."

"Okay," I said.

A flashlight shone through Rosalie's window and a soft knock followed. She didn't move. "You're all right, miss," he said. "Just roll down the window."

She inched the window down, so that it was only open by a crack.

"We're here to help you," the officer said.

"Those men had badges." Rosalie still had her finger lightly over the window control button.

"An officer is tracking them, but we're going to need a statement from all three of you ladies. You're all safe now."

We got out of the car, huddled close together, our arms around each other, Rosalie between Alice and me. We gave our statements, Edward quiet on the phone the entire time.

The officer called for a police escort to follow us home. I didn't know if this was protocol, or an outcome of him having recognized my father's name.

Alice volunteered to drive because Rosalie was still shaken up--she climbed into the back. We were all silent until half-way home, Rosalie said, "Well, I already have a therapist, if anyone wants to join me." Her laughter drew laughs from Alice and me. We laughed partially because of Rosalie's joke, but mostly because we were finally free of the panic and danger that had trapped us less than an hour ago.

"Your laugh," Edward said. "It's beautiful."

They dropped me off in front of the Cullens' house, Edward standing outside. I went right to him, his arms waiting, wrapping me, holding me, squeezing me close. His lips on my head, in my hair, down my face to my mouth. "Bella," he said, between kisses, "my love. My Bella." His hold tightened on me. We kissed outside the house over and over for so long that Esme and Carlisle had to come out to greet me, rather than continue to wait inside. I broke from Edward only to hug his parents, but he wouldn't let me go completely, a hand remaining on the small of my back. What surprised me most was my dad's presence. I'd been so focused on Edward, I hadn't even noticed his police cruiser out front. He hugged me, too, telling me he'd already spoken to the Port Angeles department, and that the two men had been arrested, wanted for auto theft, as well.

"I told those men that you were the chief of police," I said to my dad while he embraced me. "But either they didn't believe me, or they couldn't care less."

"Some people don't care that I'm the police chief when I'm standing right in front of them in uniform, Bella. Do you still have that pepper spray I gave you?"

"It's in my purse," I said, which was true. I didn't tell him that I'd left my purse at home on purpose because it was burdensome to carry.

"Edward," I said, pulling away from my dad. "I want to see my baby."

"Your baby wants to see you, too."

I hugged my dad one more time before Edward took my hand and walked upstairs with me. Not a quarter of the way, he dropped my hand, holding me tight around my shoulders and kissing my face again. "You had me scared, Bella. I had my keys, about to jump in my car to come after you, before I heard Alice yell that the police were there. I don't care how far away you were, I would have found you."

I wrapped an arm around his waist. "I'm here now, with my family."

In our bedroom, I picked up Masen even though he was sleeping. I didn't care if I woke him up, I needed him close. I brought him to the bed, lying down with him on my chest, and kissed his head. His hair had grown some, and I swept my lips down its softness. Edward came to the other side of me, resting his back against the headboard and pulling me to him.

"What do you think those guys would have done if they'd gotten us out of the car?" I asked.

"I don't know, Bella, but there's no point in guessing." His hand came to my head, pushing hair off my face, and he kissed my forehead.

"Is this the world we brought Masen into?"

Both of us kissed our baby at the same time. "Let me put him back to bed," Edward said.

He brought Masen to his bassinet, but not before I'd given baby another kiss on his little hand. Edward turned to look at me. He just stood there staring. His hand came to my ankle, sliding up under my pant leg until he felt my calf. "You're safe," he said, and I wasn't sure if he was trying to convince me or himself, so I just nodded.

Edward climbed onto the bed. His hand on the back of my neck, his lips headed straight for mine. His kisses were fast and rough, his tongue tackling mine over and over again, until we were both gasping for breath and tugging each other's clothes off. My fingers drifted up his stomach and over his chest as soon as it was bare. He yanked his own pants off, and nearly tore my panties away, as I continued exploring his torso with my hands and mouth. Then, without any other touching or foreplay, he entered me, and I was ready for him. We both had this urgency to just be one as soon as possible. He teased me with his rhythm, fast and slow, building me up to my peak, then slowing again. He groaned, trying to control himself from his own release, while I let mine go. I didn't have the self-restraint he had in that moment, and he continued to make love to me throughout my orgasm, and after.

"Again," he said, turning us over so that I was on top, and it didn't matter that I was tired and dazed. Edward held my hips, keeping our bodies in sync. He sat up so we were closer, and he kissed my breasts until my desire surpassed my weakness, and I held myself steady around his neck, taking over the movements so that now he had to keep up with me. As I felt my next euphoric wave take over my soul, he let his go, too. Together we tried to keep ourselves quiet, while the intense feelings inside fought against us, pulling moans from our mouths.

"Edward, oh my god," I whispered, as we both collapsed to the bed, his arms encircling me.

"I know," he said, so out of breath, I could barely hear him. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hold back any longer."

"What do you mean, _sorry_?"

"I wanted to keep going. I didn't want it to end. But it had to."

I laughed and ran the back of my hand down his scruffy jaw. "Yes, it had to."

"Bella." He took my face in his hands to look at me. "You're my world, do you know that? You and Masen are my whole fucking world."

I nodded. "I know, Edward."

"Good. Because I need you in my life. I can't live without you in my life."

"You would have to live. For Masen."

"Don't say that. I live for Masen _and_ you. You, Bella." He brought my face to his neck and held me tight against him. "I live for you."

* * *

**A/N: **Please review. :)


	17. Party

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 17: Party

I hardly slept at all the night we moved Masen into his own room. He'd grown too big and restless for the bassinet, but appeared too tiny and still in the crib. I'd read enough in my books about babies suffocating in their sleep that it had become near paranoia for me. I double checked that the sheet, the bumper pad, and the blanket were all safe and secure, then sat on the bed and watched him. Edward came in a little after 10:00 looking for me.

"There you are. Is anything wrong?"

I reached for his hands. "Can we sleep in here tonight?"

Joining me on the bed, he followed my gaze through the slits in the crib to Masen. "Of course, but we're going to have to leave him alone eventually. Will it be any easier tomorrow or the next day?"

I rubbed my forehead. "It'll never be easy. I remember when the only person I had to worry about keeping safe and alive was me. And that's not even easy."

"I know." His arm came around me, his thumb caressing my shoulder. "But we can't keep watch over him twenty-four hours a day. It's impossible."

"Yeah, you're right." I sighed and took his fingers. "I think I can be brave. Let's go."

I brought Edward to our room, set the baby monitor on the nightstand by my side of the bed, and turned the volume up until Masen's every movement was audible.

Quietly brushing our teeth, then climbing into bed, we weren't our usual playful selves. The air around us was somber, even though nothing sad had actually happened. I lay with my back to Edward, staring at the empty bassinet.

"Motherhood has made me a pile of mush," I said, blinking away tears.

Edward didn't say anything; he just scooted close to me, placing an arm over me, drawing me against him.

"We're going to have to move the bassinet out of here. I don't like it empty."

"I'll do it tomorrow." He kissed my neck. "Try to sleep, Bella."

I closed my eyes, but sleep evaded me. The faint sounds of the monitor and sporadic rustling of baby kept me awake and aware all night. Morning seemed to take years to come, but Masen's cries just before sunrise were a welcomed sound. I went directly to his room, and he kicked his legs as he saw me, convincing me that there was no better greeting.

"I'm happy to see you too, baby," I said, lifting him up and returning to Edward's bed. I finally slept with my back against the headboard while Masen nursed.

Edward sat up, kissed my cheek, then Masen's head. "Good morning, my two loves," he said, before getting up and readying himself for school.

Masen and I walked Edward out. He had to work after school, and we wouldn't see him again until dinnertime.

Because it wasn't raining or snowing, I decided to get Masen dressed and bundled for a walk.

"How did you like sleeping in your own room like a big boy?" I asked him, and he kicked his legs as I spoke, making removing his pajamas a difficult task. I could barely keep hold of those motoring legs. "Mommy wasn't a big girl. No, mommy was a little girl last night." Masen stiffened as my ring scraped his tummy. "Oh, sorry baby!" I left light kisses over his stomach and in return, he gave me his very first giggle. My head shot up to see the smile confirming what I'd just heard. I repeated the fast kisses and his giggle turned into laughter. After that, I did everything I could to keep him laughing. I brought him downstairs and danced in circles with him, and he laughed. I lifted him high in the air, then brought him low to the ground, as I twirled and laughed right along with him.

"Do you want to go outside?" I asked, tickling his chin. We both found that hilarious. "I know. That _is_ funny," I said. I was ever the comedienne today. If Masen was my audience, I could make a successful career out of comedy.

Giving our stomach muscles some time off, I wrapped Masen in Rosalie's homemade sling, and traveled the forest with him. Mostly I walked in huge, careful loops, not wanting to veer too far from the house. We rested under a large fir tree, and I lay on my back, with Masen on top of me, both facing the sky. I couldn't feel the ground through my heavy coat, though it must have been wet.

"Look, Masen," I said. "Most people see trees from the front, but this is what it looks like from way down at the bottom. I think it's more beautiful like this." I meant it, too. Branch after branch, a slightly different shade of green, with the blue-gray overcast sky as the background was serene, even celestial in a way. It was the definition of peace. "This is something I'll miss when we move. All of this, just a step from the house."

It didn't make a difference that Masen couldn't understand my words. I was sharing myself with him, and _that_ he could understand. If I learned anything from my run-in with the crazies in Port Angeles, it was that these simple, quiet moments were the most precious. I took in everything around me, from the chilly breeze, to the feel of Masen's non-stop movement on top of me. I'd store this away in my memory like a file, ready to pull out in later years.

Edward had to pull a longer work shift than usual, so it wasn't until after dinner when I could finally show him Masen's new "trick."

"Watch," I said to Edward, as I lay Masen on our bed, lightly kissing all over his bare stomach until he shared his beautiful laugh. Edward's jaw dropped, a growing smile following. He bent down and tried it, too, but Masen didn't laugh for him. He tried it again, but still no laugh.

"What am I doing wrong?"

I drew a line around his lips then down to his chin, and tapped it. "Your skin is not as soft as mine."

"Should I shave?"

"No. You're sexy like this." I stood on tiptoe to kiss his eight-o'clock scruff. "Besides, picking him up and spinning him around also makes him laugh." I handed Masen to him, so he could try it. Within seconds we were engrossed in Masen's giggles.

* * *

On February eighteenth, the night of Alice's party, I kissed Masen goodbye at least eighteen times. "You be good for Granddad Charlie, sweet Masen."

"Be careful tonight," my dad said.

"We will."

"I mean it, Bella. Be careful."

"We're staying in Forks, don't worry," I said.

"Remember," my dad said, "I work the early shift tomorrow, so if you end up taking Masen home tonight, leave a note on the counter. You know you're all welcome to sleep here, though."

"Thanks, Dad."

"See you later, Little Man." Edward tickled Masen's chin, bringing forth Masen's lyrical laugh before handing him to my dad.

"You've become an expert at making him laugh," I said, linking my arm through his and pulling him out the door.

"He's like you; he laughs at everything." He kissed my nose, and I intertwined our fingers and caught his lips in mine before he could get away. Still kissing me, he lifted me up. "Let's go to Alice's party…" he said between kisses, my feet dragging along the cement as he walked backwards toward the car, "…before we …never make it there."

He opened my door, and as I got in, I looked up at him. "I love that you open doors for me. You've always done that. It's sweet."

He squatted next to me, resting his arms on my knees. "Sweet? Not gentlemanly?"

"Is that why you do it? Because you're being a gentleman?"

"Nah. I grew up watching my dad do it for my mom. It feels natural. When you get to it before me, I get that feeling like when you think you've forgotten something--like your keys or your wallet. I recheck my pockets until I realize I just didn't get to your door."

I ran the side of a finger down his face and he smiled.

"I love you," I said.

"Because I open your doors?"

"Yes. And that's the only reason, so don't stop or you'll lose me forever."

He kissed me. "Why do you joke like that?"

"Who said it was a joke?" I kissed him back.

"Not funny." He held my shoulders and kissed me deeper, leaning forward, pressing me backward, the emergency brake digging into my back.

"Ow," I said into his mouth, arching my back.

"Sorry." He kept kissing me, wrapping an arm around my back to protect me from the pain. I relaxed against him. "Better?"

I nodded, not wanting to pull my lips away from his to answer.

"Hey," my dad's voice came from the porch, and we both froze. "Isn't this what usually happens at the end of a date?"

Edward and I started laughing. "Dad!" I sat up and Edward went around to his side of the car. "Edward just dropped something."

"You kids… behave," he said, covering his eyes and shaking his head.

Prince, or The Artist Formerly Known as, filled our ears as we entered Alice's house. We would come to find out that his every CD was being played on shuffle, with strict orders from Alice not to change it. Decorations of silk fuchsia ribbons and silver metallic streamers drooped over our heads in the living room. Matching balloons floated here and there from the ceiling, some people pulling on the strings, and then releasing them again, or dancing with them. Three steps in and Emmett blocked our path, handing Edward a shot glass.

"It's Patron. Mama B?" Emmett asked, holding a glass out to me.

I shook my head. "Somebody has to drive." I didn't mention that I was still nursing, or that my dad would smell it on me later.

Edward took his shot, followed by the one intended for me, before we made it to the kitchen, where he took his third shot.

"You'd better slow down," I told him.

"That's it for me," he said, then kissed me before Alice pulled me from his arms and into hers.

"Happy Birthday to me!"

"What is this?" I asked, plucking at the crown on her head, but her hand flew to mine to stop me. Her hair was cut in short flippy wisps again, and her lips were redder than a brick against her pale complexion.

"It's mine. Leave it be." And then she hit me with her hot pink feather boa. "Say happy birthday to me, now!"

"Happy Birthday, little girl." I kissed her cheek.

"Hey, Bella, how's Masen?" Rosalie asked.

"Adorable, as always. Did you do this to her?" I swept my hand, motioning from the crystal-beaded crown on Alice's head, over her short black dress, down to her glittery silver heels.

"Me? She doesn't need me. She does this shit to herself."

"That's right," Alice said. "I have to decorate my house and myself for my own party because my friends are nothing but humbugs who think they're thirty."

"Ask her why she won't allow us to change the music," said Rosalie, but I didn't have to ask because Alice was already answering.

"Because, he was my mom's favorite when I was born, and it was all she would listen to in the hospital when she was giving birth to me. It's my birthday. It's all about me, so we get Prince."

"But most of these songs were written after you were born," I said. Rosalie laughed.

"And my actual birthday was over a week ago. Technicalities, Bella," Alice said. "Haven't you ever heard of sentiment? Where's my Jasper?" She went looking for him.

Mike and some bronze-skinned, black-haired guy I'd never seen before rushed through the kitchen. "She's here," a deep voice said, as they went out the walkway that lead to the front entrance.

"Who's here?" I asked Rosalie.

She smiled. "They must be talking about Kate. You know how those boys behave whenever there's a new student in school."

"Yeah," Jasper said, approaching us with an arm around Alice. "Their behavior couldn't have anything to do with Kate's appearance."

"No way," Emmett said from behind me. "Not when she resembles Jason's mom."

"Who's Jason?" Rosalie asked.

"Jason Vorhees," Emmett said.

I turned to see him bring his beer can to his mouth. "She looks like Jason's mom?"

He swallowed and smirked at me. "More like Jason dressed up like his mom."

"_Who_ is Jason?" Rosalie asked again.

"He's the serial killer in _Friday the 13th_," Jasper said, and Alice laughed. "Emmett's fucking with Bella."

"You say that as though I watch stupid horror films," Rosalie said. Emmett handed her a cocktail and brought his lips to the side of her face.

"Rosalie!" said a striking blonde girl, who couldn't have been anyone but Kate. Apparently, beauty ran throughout Rosalie's entire family, because Kate was the only girl I'd ever seen that rivaled Rosalie in looks. Her hair hung in one, long, straight, nearly white mass down to her waist, and her eyes were more turquoise than blue.

"Kate, hey! This is Bella."

"Look at you," I said, instead of hello.

"The best thing about Bella is that she's not normal," Rosalie told Kate. "She's the anti-norm. She's perfect. Ask her boyfriend. He calls her that all the time." Rosalie hiccupped, and it was clear to me that Emmett had made sure Mr. Patron made the rounds tonight. Patron spirals, maybe. "I think it might be irritatingly true."

"I thank you from the very, very bottom of my heart, Rosalie," I said. "Nobody likes anything more than to be described as irritatingly perfect when being introduced to a stranger."

"Bella, don't try to confuse me when I'm drinking." Rosalie put an arm around me. "It just might work."

"Who's your boyfriend?" Kate asked.

"I don't know who her _boyfriend_ is," Edward said, taking me from Rosalie and wrapping his arms around me, "but I'm her fiancé." He turned me around to kiss me. I tasted more liquor on his mouth, something besides Tequila. "And she _is_ perfect and beautiful and I love her." He kissed me again. "I love this girl."

"And you're drunker than you were five minutes ago," I said. "What happened? Where were you?"

"I was stuck talking to people nowhere near as interesting as you, then JD happened, but that's it. No more for me. I cut myself off."

"Mm-hmm," I said. "That sounds familiar."

"You're a gorgeous couple," Kate said.

"It's because of him," I said, squishing Edward's cheeks as if I were his Aunt Myrtle. "But he's more than just a pretty boy."

"I'm no pretty boy. Look," he ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't even fix my hair."

"That's because your hair is naturally pretty," I said, tangling my fingers through the soft strands, pulling at it so it spiked up in different directions even more. Kate and Rosalie laughed.

Emmett pushed a beer into Edward's hand and he took a swig of it.

"Come on," Edward said throwing a loose arm over my shoulder. "Let's go find some more people to tell how much I love you." And he did just that. Random people knew he loved me and most of them laughed. Some of the girls raised their eyebrows at me, and I wondered how Alice knew all of these people I didn't recognize.

As soon as Edward was satisfied with the amount of people who now understood his love for me, he finally left them all alone.

Alice bounced up to me. "Bella! I need to talk to you before I lose my nerve." She brought me upstairs to her room and shut the door.

There was a cocktail on her dresser; she took a big sip, then plunked down on her bed.

"Is that even yours?" I asked.

"Okay, what I'm about to tell you is very personal and important to me, and I need you not to judge me or yell at me."

"I promise. What is it?"

"Okay, okay." She took a deep breath, then another sip of whomever's drink that was, then another deep breath. "I'm not going to college next year."

I stared at her for a moment, feeling the comforter beneath me, unaware I'd sunk to the bed. "Is this a joke?"

"It's not a joke. Jasper and I have decided to take the year off." Then, perhaps due to her nerves or the amount of alcohol she'd consumed, she started laughing.

Her laughter began to irritate me. Or maybe it was her announcement. She was freely making the choice to skip college, when I no longer had that choice. "Alice, wait. Are you sure? Maybe you're just drunk and hallucinating."

"Booze doesn't make you hallucinate, Bella. I'm serious. Dead serious. You look mad. Are you mad at me?"

"I'm thrown off. I'm sorry. You asked me to be understanding, but I thought you were going to tell me you had sex with Jasper or something. I wasn't prepared for this."

"Don't be disappointed in me."

"All right, Alice, I need some time to digest this. We'll talk about it again when you're sober."

I left her sitting on her bed, closed the door, and went looking for Jasper. Still in a bit of denial over what Alice had just told me, I thought he could clear it up. But Jessica got to me before I found Jasper.

"Come play pool with me." Her hair wasn't done up in its usual curly style. Instead it was blonder and stick straight. She looked like someone else. She looked like… Kate.

"Alice doesn't have a pool table."

"Come on, it's in the billiard room."

I frowned at her, and she laughed, took my hand, and led me to the garage where someone had erected a miniature pool table. "I'm on Mike's team, you can be with Paul."

"Paul?"

The guy I'd seen earlier flipping out with Mike upon Kate's arrival shook my hand. "Yeah, Paul." His voice was the deepest I'd ever heard, and he was tall--taller than Edward.

I looked way up at him. "I hope you're prepared to lose," I told him, taking the pool cue he offered me, succumbing to a game I had no idea how to play.

"I never lose," he said without a smile. The look on his face made my eyes dodge around the garage in search of Emmett, the only person I knew and trusted who was bigger than Paul. Emmett must have still been in the kitchen playing bartender.

I cleared my throat. "Are you new to the area?"

"Not the area. Just to Forks High. I live on the reservation, but they kicked my ass out of school."

"What'd you do?"

"If I wanted you to know, I'd have told you already."

I let out a nervous laugh, then lined up my shot because Jessica was nagging me from the other side of the table. Apparently, I was doing it wrong because Paul took the liberty of repositioning my hips and then my stick. He pointed to where he wanted me to _poke_ the ball. "Just give it a soft poke," he said. I gave it a hard poke instead and it bounced off the table, which made Jessica laugh, and Paul fold his arms across his chest and stare at me.

"You don't want me for a partner," I said. "That's fine. Choose somebody else."

Finally he cracked a dimpled smile and let out a bellowing laugh. "I'm messing with you." He nudged my arm. "I'll make up for it on my turn." And he did just that, knocking five balls in, one after the other.

"So, do you know Leah Clearwater?" I asked him.

"Unfortunately, I do."

I didn't have to ask him what he'd meant by _unfortunately_, so I nodded, and said, "Me too."

It was my turn again, and Paul helped me with my shot again, but this time, I felt his hand too close to my rear. I looked back at him, and he moved his hand. I thought maybe it had been accidental until he did it again, and Mike shoved his shoulder.

"Hey man," Mike said. "Not cool. Bella's taken."

"You are?" Paul asked me, and I showed him my engagement ring.

"She has a baby, too," Jessica said.

"_You_ have a baby?"

I nodded.

"What am I wasting my time for?"

I waited for him to crack a smile and say he was kidding again, but instead he took a swig of beer. I set my pool stick on the table and headed back for the house.

"Wait," Jessica said, "aren't you going to finish the game?"

"No thank you."

Inside, I found Edward on the sofa, and squeezed in next to him. He kissed me and I welcomed it.

"Where did you go?" he asked, but didn't allow me to answer before his lips attacked mine again. Ignoring the crazy-blend of alcohol on his mouth, I kissed him back. But Edward was kissing me down my neck until my back arched over the sofa arm, and I felt suddenly insecure and watched.

"Let's go to Alice's room," Edward said, not a bit quiet.

"No, Edward," I whispered, bringing a hand to his chest, pushing him back some. "Alice might still be up there. Besides, we're not having sex in a virginal room. That has to be bad karma or something. Just wait until later. You can wait until later."

"No. I can't." He leaned forward and started kissing my neck again--tickling with his tongue. My eyes closed.

"Edward," I breathed, "people are watching."

"They're jealous. Let them watch," he said, his kisses continuing.

"Not in front of everyone." I pushed against his chest again, but he held me tight.

"Let's go somewhere," he said against my throat. "The car? We've never done it in the car."

"There's no room in your car."

He pulled back. "Bella. Where's your sense of adventure?" He took another sip of his beer.

"I guess I lost it somewhere between not wanting to have sex in public and not wanting to break any limbs in the tight space that is your car."

"Look, let me show you something." He set his beer on the floor, then lifted me onto his lap like I weighed nothing, spreading my legs over his. Then he started kissing me deeply, only to pull away to say, "See. We don't need much room at all." He lifted his hips into me--I felt him press right against me. The people next to us were laughing. I'd never met them and they were laughing at me.

"She's gonna get pregnant again," a deep, familiar voice said. I looked around for Paul, but he wasn't in sight. Maybe he'd been passing by, or maybe it had been some other deep voice.

"Edward, please."

"What, Bella?" He licked my lips.

I jumped off his lap. "You're disrespecting me in front of everybody." After what had just happened in the garage, all I wanted was sweet Edward, but he seemed to be taking the rest of the night off.

"Is it disrespectful to want you? To desire you like I do?"

"Shh."

"Is it?" The people around us laughed harder, drawing a bigger crowd of curious onlookers.

I leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Please stop, Edward. You're embarrassing me." I don't think he heard me, or even listened. All he felt was my breath in his ear.

"Do that some more," he said with his eyes closed. When I pulled back and scooted away from him, his eyes opened. "Bella, do that thing with your tongue that you're so good at." That drew more laughs, and Edward was laughing too.

"Edward! Stop it. You're too drunk. You need to stop talking."

"Stop talking about what?" He tucked a finger under the hem of my top and pulled on it. "You?"

I pulled his hand out from under my shirt. "Yes. Just stop." I brought my hand to his face and tried to get him to focus on my eyes. "Edward, listen to me. I need you to-"

"I need you, too, Bella." He leaned in for a kiss, but I pulled back.

"Come on. You used to be fun."

"I _used_ to be fun?"

"Yeah, what happened?"

"Okay, goodbye Edward."

"Bye Bella."

I had to get out of there. Too many were packed in the living room, and I couldn't walk through it without bumping into people. I pushed my way past drunk bodies. "Jasper! Jasper," I tugged on his arm. "Are you sober?"

He nodded. "I have to be sober when Alice is drinking. I learned my lesson on prom night. Why?"

"Can you take me home? I don't feel well."

"Sure. Where's Edward?"

"I don't know, but I already said goodbye to him. He's staying."

"Okay," he took my hand, leading me through the crowd toward the kitchen. Emmett was giving Alice some sort of lesson about the cocktail she was drinking, but she only appeared to be half-listening. She noticed Jasper right away and left Emmett talking to the wall. He didn't seem too bothered by Alice's sudden disappearance. He turned and started in on someone else. Jasper told Alice he was giving me a ride.

"Don't go," Alice said to Jasper, toying with the end of his shirt.

He whispered something in her ear that brought a nod from her. "I'll be right back, Bella," Jasper said, braving his way through the living room again.

"Why ya leavin', Bella baby?" Alice asked. "Are you still mad at me?"

"No. You're not the one I'm mad at. I just have to get back to Masen. Happy birthday." I hugged her. "I love you, Alice. And do yourself a favor. Keep your clothes on."

"Sure…"

Jasper took my hand again and led me out the back door. It was dark and moonless and so quiet. Snow layered the ground, and the wind blew chills through me that rivaled the chill I'd felt for Edward minutes earlier.

"I thought you said goodbye to Edward," Jasper said once we were in his truck.

"I did."

"Well, he asked me where you were, and when I told him I was taking you home he looked surprised, and then confused."

"He's drunk. He must have forgotten."

I didn't speak again until he pulled up to my dad's house. I lacked the mind-strength to even ask him about college. "Jasper? Will you please make sure Edward gets home okay? Don't let him drive. He's really wasted." I may have been angry, but that didn't mean I wanted Edward to get hurt.

"Of course."

"And will you call me to let me know he's home?"

"Do you want me to bring him here?"

"No. Just bring him to his house. I'll see him tomorrow."

I got out of the truck and began up the walk. "What's going on, Bella? You're not sick," said Jasper, following me.

"Yes I am."

He turned me around by my shoulder, and as soon as I looked into his eyes, I knew I couldn't lie to him anymore. "It's not that big of a deal," I said. "He was drunk, and he, you know, wouldn't stop kissing me and… someone said…" I looked at the ground.

"What did someone say?"

"That… I'll probably end up pregnant again."

Jasper lifted my chin. "Did Edward hear that?"

"No. He was too busy trying to make out with me."

He shook his head. "You can't let people like that get to you. Why didn't you tell Edward about this, and why did you want to leave without him?"

"Because he wasn't listening to me, and he made me mad!" I stomped my foot to show him how mad I was, then realized that only made me look like a six-year-old.

He stepped toward me to hug me, but I held out a hand. "No. I know what you're trying to do, but I'm angry, and I want to be. Sometimes you just want to feel your anger."

"But it's more than that, Bella. It's not all anger you're feeling. You're hurt. I'm going to bring Edward back here. You want him."

"Jasper." I raised my eyebrows, shaking my head. "Now I understand why you annoy Emmett sometimes."

"Does it irritate you because I'm right, or because you don't want to admit it?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm going in. Thank you for the ride. I'm sorry I kept you from Alice's party." I turned to enter my house.

"Bella, you can talk to me. I'm not trying to manipulate your feelings, but I can't leave you alone if you're upset."

Something in his expression showed me just how genuine he was. He really didn't plan on leaving until I opened up. Even though it was too dark to see the color of his eyes, I could see that they were intent on mine, asking me to talk. "Why can't my life just be… regular?"

He frowned. "I thought you were happy with your life."

"I am. In general, I am. It's just that every time I start to feel calm and comfortable, something comes along and knocks the wind out of me. I want my wind _in_ me. I want to breathe in and out at an even pace. And now I feel guilty for even saying anything--after what you and Rosalie have been through-"

"Don't feel guilty. You have a right to your feelings. Don't undermine them." He stepped toward me again, and I stepped back. "Bella, I'm not going to hug you, just…" he put an arm over my shoulders, "one arm. That's all."

I couldn't feel his natural warmth through our thick coats, so I stopped fighting him and let my head fall against his slick, puffy shoulder. "To answer your question, you were frustrating me because you were right."

"I'm coming back with Edward. Does he have a key?"

"No. I'll leave the door unlocked. My dad's home. It'll be fine."

He nodded and let me go, waiting there, facing me. I gave him one last wave, then closed the door.

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**A/N**: Review Please.


	18. Sober

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

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Not Without You

Chapter 18: Sober

When Jasper called, it was after 1:00 AM, and I'd been lying on my back, wide awake in the blackness of my room. Unsure if Edward was okay, I stared up at the invisible ceiling, feeling like I was nowhere, surrounded by nothing. The phone that was already in my hand vibrated, bringing me back to my room and my bed. Jasper told me that when he'd returned to Alice's, Edward was gone. I sat straight up.

"Did he drive?"

"No, his car is still here. I heard someone gave him a ride. But-"

"Who? Was anyone else sober?"

"Uh, yeah, there were sober people, don't worry about that. Listen, Bella…" I shifted on the bed, leaned my back against the headboard, and waited as Jasper's pause grew so long, I almost thought we'd been disconnected. "There's something I need to talk to you about tomorrow. Will you call me in the morning before you go anywhere?"

"I can't go anywhere; I don't have a car, remember?"

"Right. So, call me first thing, okay?"

"You can tell me now, Jasper."

"No. It's no big deal. Just call me in the morning. First thing." I didn't ask him why it had to be first thing in the morning if it was no big deal. Instead, I made the promise.

I tried calling Edward's cell phone one more time, but there was no answer. I left another message, losing count of how many I'd left. At least I could sleep now, knowing he hadn't driven himself. Before the sun batted its first eyelash, Masen began to stir. I switched on the lamp and went straight to him. His little cries had not time to build into wails.

"You're up early, sweet baby." I kissed his head, bringing him from his pack 'n play to my bed where I nursed him. My phone buzzed and blinked on the night stand, signaling a text. I fumbled for it, trying not to disturb Masen too much, and read Edward's text. He said he'd be over in ten minutes. I glanced at the clock, two minutes past five, much too early to call Jasper.

Masen had just fallen back into the arms of sleep when he stirred at the sound of the doorbell. "Shh…" I brought a finger down his face until he was still, then let him rest in his pack 'n play again.

I headed down to answer the door, Edward on the other side in last night's clothes. Neither one of us had changed. I left it open and walked away.

"I'm glad you're safe. I was worried, but I'm not ready to talk to you yet."

"Let me apologize, Bella. Please." He followed me into the living room. "I was terrible to you. Things have been coming back to me in bits and pieces, and it's like I was someone else."

I faced him. "But you weren't someone else. You are always Edward, and you disrespected me."

"I know. Unfortunately, I know."

"People, some of them strangers, were laughing at me, and then you insinuated that I am no longer fun. I'm sorry, but I'm a mother now. I have a responsibility to my baby to be the mother he needs, and if that means I'm not fun then-"

"You are fun. I couldn't have more fun with anybody else. And you're the best mother. Eighteen or not, the best."

"But I know I'm not the same fun. Not like the other girls at that party."

He shut his eyes. "I wouldn't want you to be like any other girl. That is _exactly_ what I've always loved about you. Don't listen to what I said last night. You know I didn't mean it."

I nodded.

"I need to kiss you. Can I kiss you?" His eyes were on my mouth. "It's been so long since I've felt your lips."

"It's only been a few hours," I said, stepping toward him to give him a peck, but he, being Edward, held my shoulders, lifted me to him and turned it into more, his lips and tongue demanding, almost making me forget my anger.

He wrapped his arms over my shoulders and around my back in a tight hug. "Your hair smells nice."

I almost laughed at that. I hadn't even washed it yet. "I needed this last night," I said.

"I remember. I'm sorry." His hold tightened until not even air stood between us. "I can't lose you."

"You're not losing me, Edward. I'm just angry."

He let go, giving me a long gaze, before averting his eyes.

"What?"

"There's something… I have to tell you." His hand came to his forehead, his eyes closing again.

I searched his face, waiting for his eyes to open. He looked different. Something was different. "What is it?" I took his hand from his head, and his fingers clasped mine. "Are you okay?"

"Bella." He shook his head, still keeping the same odd expression. "Don't worry about me. Please, not now."

"Why not? Who should I worry about?" I continued my search through his eyes. What was this? I couldn't get a read on him. Nothing.

His lips met my cheek. "Bella…"

"Are you going to tell me what's going on, Edward? You're scaring me."

"I'll tell you, just… sit down." He held his free hand out toward the couch like he needed to show me where it was. I looked at the couch, right next to me, but didn't sit, turning my attention back on Edward, still unreadable.

"Wait." I took a half-step back. "Is this going to hurt? Don't tell me."

"It might hurt. I wish it wouldn't, but it might, and I have to tell you. For one thing, you'll hear about it from someone else, and I need you to hear it from me first."

"Why would I hear about it from someone else? What is it?" Then I remembered Jasper wanting me to call him first thing in the morning. Had he meant he wanted to talk to me before I saw Edward, too? I was so confused. "I think… I think I have to call Jasper." I let go of Edward's hand and turned toward the stairs to retrieve my phone from my room, but Edward caught my arm.

"No. You don't need to call Jasper."

"You know what he wants to talk to me about? Is it the same thing?"

He nodded, his eyelids barely open, making his eyes appear darker, almost black instead of green, and that was when I recognized it, the look on his face. Regret. And… guilt?

"Oh god." My heart stopped. There was no breath, no heartbeat--and when it came back, I pulled my arm from him, moved to the couch and sank into it. I could have kept sinking, the couch enclosing me completely. I looked up at him. "Edward?" I pleaded with my eyes that I was misinterpreting it all. "No. No. I'm wrong." My bottom lip quivered.

He dropped to his knees, his face level with mine, and took my shoulders. "It's not what you're thinking, okay? Nothing happened."

Nothing happened? Why would he say nothing happened unless something… something did happen, or started to happen? This feeling, it was unfamiliar to me. My now hammering heart was so strong against my chest, I felt it in my ribs. My fists were burrowing into the couch cushion and my face was hot.

"Nothing happened… with who?" But it didn't even matter who it was. I was already crying, and shoving his hands off me. I closed my eyes, tears squeezing themselves from my eyelids. I prayed that it really was nothing. He was everything to me. If I couldn't trust him, then I couldn't trust life. But he'd wanted me to kiss him before he told me this. I opened my eyes, my fingers inching to my lips, as I remembered the desperation in his kiss. The way he'd gripped my shoulders, only the tips of my toes on the floor. He held me so tight, so close to his lips when I'd tried to pull away. A hard, rough kiss--I could still feel it. It reminded me of the kiss he'd given me before we made love after that frightening night in Port Angeles. This wasn't right. Why had there been such desperation in that kiss? My tears came faster.

"Please don't cry, Bella." He tried to wipe a tear but I didn't let him. I pulled back. If he was going to make me cry, he was going to have to watch.

"Why not?! Would it make you feel better if I didn't cry? Because right now, I am all about making you feel better!"

"Bella? What are you thinking? Nothing happened. You have to believe me. Others might not, but you have to. I'm telling you, nothing happened. I would never do that to you. Never."

"What others? You keep saying nothing happened. But if that's true, why were you worried about losing me? What did you _do_ to me?" Right then, my tears became uncontrollable. They wouldn't stop, and they turned my cries into sobs.

"I didn't do anything. I woke up. Fully dressed. On the couch. She slept in her room. I swear."

"Who?"

"Kate… She brought me home with her last night because I was too drunk to drive, and she didn't know where I lived. If I lose you over this--Bella, I love you. Can you believe me? Do you? Do you believe me?"

"You went home with Kate last night? In the state you were in? Why did you go with Kate? You could have stayed at Alice's."

"I don't know how I ended up in Kate's car. I can't remember yet. You have to know that nothing happened between us, though. Be angry at me. Punish me. Just tell me that you believe me, that I'm not going to lose you. Tell me." His hands squeezed my knees, as if by some force he could squish the knowledge into me that nothing did happen between him and Kate. Beautiful Kate. I hit his hands away.

"Stop touching me! I can't tell you that I believe you, Edward! Not when you were that drunk. You were all over me last night. Even when I asked you to stop, you wouldn't."

"I'm sorry, Bella. I didn't know what I was doing, and that is no excuse, I know that."

"If you didn't know what you were doing with me, how do you know what happened with her? How could you keep your hands off her?" Her? Had I really just said that? Was that possible? More tears poured down my face, each one hitting the next and taking a new path--wetting a new spot.

"Because she's not you." His voice was so soft; my gasping breaths were louder than his words. "Bella, even when I'm not drunk I can never keep my hands off you. I never, _never_ want to touch anyone else the way I touch you."

"Edward! I can't even believe you're in a position where you have to defend yourself like this! Fuck!" I covered my face and cried into my hands because, suddenly, I didn't want him to see me cry. I just let my sobs go; I shook and shook and let it all go. Before I was finished, because I wasn't sure I could be finished, I looked at him again through an ocean of tears, gravity working against me and pulling the streams down over my face, dripping off my chin to wet my legs. Edward didn't touch me, he just watched me with pain in his eyes, also damp but not overflowing like mine. My words came out in broken sobs. "Are we engaged… Edward? Aren't we… engaged… to be married?! You asked me to marry you… to spend the rest of my life with you. Wake up with you…everyday-"

"Yes. Bella, that is all I want. More than anything, that is what I want. You. Just you." He grabbed for my hands but I swatted his away. Over and over I swatted at his hands like they were mosquitoes until he stopped reaching for me.

"But today. This morning… you woke up… with someone else!" My tears fell from my face puddling through my jeans.

"We didn't wake up together."

"Were you with me when you woke up, Edward?"

"No."

"Who was there, when you woke up?"

"Kate."

"Please leave… now." My sobs took over my whole body--shaking me to the core. I felt it in my heart, the shaking, the tightness, the pain. I could barely catch my breath or find my voice to speak. "I c-can't… l-look at you… right now. G-go."

"No. I'm not leaving you." He let his tears free, too. "Not like this, Bella. I'm so sorry. Look what I've done to you, baby." He brushed hair off my forehead and I shoved at his hand again. He couldn't touch me. I wouldn't let him.

"That's right. You did this, so go!"

"Not without you! I'm not leaving you and Masen, Bella. I won't go home without you."

"Yes… you are. It isn't your choice. It's mine. You're leaving." I stood up on weak legs, walked to the door, and opened it for him.

He took a few reluctant steps toward me, stopped and held my shoulders, bending forward until his eyes were in line with mine. "Come with me. You and Masen, come with me. Please, Bella?" He leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my head and shoved his hands away.

"Don't manipulate me with your kisses. I want you to leave. Respect that. You wouldn't respect my feelings when you were drunk, but now you're sober. Can you respect me when you're sober?"

"Bella." He was shaking his head.

"This isn't like keeping Stanford from me, Edward. This is something else altogether."

"I-I'll go, if that's what you want. But Bella, do you believe me? I swear to god, I didn't touch her. Not with my hands, or my lips, or anything."

I nodded so he would just get out.

"Are you going to come home tonight?"

"I don't have a home."

"Yes you do. You do have a home. Don't talk like that. You and Masen, your home is with me."

"Get out, Edward, before I say more hurtful things. Like maybe I will come to your house tonight… to pick up my stuff! Maybe Masen and I will just move back in here with my dad, so you can go out and sleep wherever you want, and never have to explain how…or-or why it happened."

"That's not going to happen! None of it! You live with me, Bella. I love you!" He reached for my arm but I yanked it away. He grabbed for my other arm and I yanked that one away too. Tears streamed down his face. "Bella! You live with me." He took hold of my hand and when I tried to squirm away, he held tighter and brought it to his lips, then opened my fingers and held my palm against his wet and scruffy face. One of his hands wrapped my wrist and the other held my hand firmly on his cheek. I stopped resisting because, in spite of everything, I needed to feel him, too. I felt weak for needing him when he was the one who had hurt me, but I couldn't stop the need. More and more tears raced from my eyes, dripping onto the floor and my feet. "I love you." He kissed my palm and held his lips there. "I love you, Bella. I love you. You're my love."

I felt his lips as they moved against my hand. It wasn't the first time I'd heard and felt his words of love at the same time. I allowed myself to really look at him. His green eyes, wet and dripping, his worried eyebrows. I wanted to run my fingers over his eyebrows and make them right again--unworried. I wanted him to take my hand that his lips were now kissing and pull me against him, into his arms, where I could dry my eyes with his shirt, where I could feel his heartbeat against my cheek, and his hands rubbing my back, my hair. I wanted him to comfort me because he was my love, too. My first and only love. But I couldn't allow any of that, because this time, he was the reason I was hurting. He enclosed my hand in his and brought his other hand toward my face, his fingers at my neck, his palm cupping my cheek as he bent toward me, slow, testing. His lips touched my forehead but didn't kiss. He just pressed them against my skin and held them there. My eyes closed with my wish for a kiss. I felt myself giving in to him, but before I did, I stepped back.

"Edward, you have too much power over me! Nobody has the power to hurt me like you can."

He kissed my fingers over and over, holding them to his lips with both hands. "Bella, I'm so fucking sorry. I never want to hurt you. You have the same power over me. I swear to god, I love you more than anything!"

"Then why did you do this? Why are we here right now… like this?!"

I wriggled my hand from his grasp, gave him one last push and shut the door on him, locked it, then crumbled. I was crumbs, hundreds of them, all over the floor.

"Bella," Edward said through the door. "Let me back in. Let me hold you. Just for a minute?"

I was so tempted to do just that. His arms, I wanted them around me so badly. They could fix me, put me back together. But I didn't answer.

"You can't be alone right now. Call Alice."

Hearing his voice only made it worse. I picked myself up and walked away from the door. I wasn't alone. I had Masen. I could hear him crying upstairs, and I took deep breaths on my way up, scraped the wetness off my face, and rescued him from his lonely bed. And he rescued me when he instantly stopped crying, resting his head against my shoulder. I brought my cheek to his precious head and I let my tiny, five-month-old baby comfort me as the sun swept the room with its early orange cast. I sat on my bed with him, my back up against the headboard, and put my pinky in his little hand for him to squeeze.

After I fed him his bland rice-cereal, and played with him on the floor downstairs, avoiding or shoving away any vision of Edward in my mind, I brought Masen with me to my computer. With my baby in one arm, I used my old student code to find Kate's address in the Forks High directory. Then I mapped directions to her house. Something was compelling me to go there--surprise her by showing up and getting her side of things. If she'd been sober last night, maybe she could give me answers, or maybe her face would reveal the truth when I arrived unexpected. I placed Masen on his tummy in his pack 'n play, gave him a little plush jingle toy, and turned his music box on while I quickly showered with the door open, then dressed and changed Masen's diaper. Downstairs, I sat with him on the couch.

Only one thing was keeping me from leaving for Kate's. Fear. I wanted to believe Edward more than I'd ever wanted anything, but he had been so drunk, so unaware of his own actions. He couldn't even remember everything. And what if Kate confirmed that something went on between them? What if she told me that he kissed her, what would I do? Or what if more than a kiss happened and he couldn't remember; what if everything happened? That thought made me sick. The possibility of anything intimate between Edward and Kate churned in my stomach.

What could I accept? Could I accept even a kiss between them? A drunk, unaware, unintentional kiss? My hand came to my face where he had touched me earlier. His sober, intentional touch, his sworn words of love. He loved me. If last night any sort of betrayal took place, could I take it? Could I look past it? Could I forget it? Or... Would that be the end? The end of something that was never supposed to end? And was I to blame, too? Was I partially at fault for leaving him drunk and alone at the party? If I hadn't left, none of this would have happened. We would have woken up together, in the same bed, taking turns holding Masen, just like every day. He'd be here now, or I'd be there, with him.

I held Masen tighter against me and lay back on the couch, closing my eyes, refusing the tears even as a sob forced its way through my chest. I napped on my back with Masen on top of me until late afternoon.

I awoke with a start as I felt Masen move. I held him tight, afraid somehow that I'd drop him. "Baby," I said, "my baby." I sat up just like I had two hours ago, staring at the wall and not even seeing it. No matter what had happened between Edward and Kate, it couldn't be changed, and I had to know. I grabbed Masen's bag, bundled him up, and bundled myself up before it dawned on me that I didn't have a car. I thought about who I should call to help me out. Jasper? Alice? I went to the kitchen, grabbed the phone, and just out the kitchen window over the sink, I saw Edward's car in the driveway. My eyes widened, then narrowed. Was he still here?

"Come on, Mase." I went out to the car but Edward wasn't in it. Through the window, I saw the car keys on the seat with a note, and I opened the door to read it.

_Bella,_

_I thought you could use a car. My heart is yours. Please come home._

_Edward_

My eyes threatened tears again when I read, c_ome home_. "Your daddy," I said to Masen, kissing his head. "Do you think we can trust him?" I instantly regretted bringing baby into this. "Yes, we can," I told him, just in case he understood.

The carseat was already secured in the backseat, so I strapped Masen in and took off for Kate's. It took me ten minutes to drive there, and I waited another ten minutes before I opened my car door. I lifted Masen from his seat and nursed him in the car before I finally bit my lip too hard and stalked toward the house. It was a small house. Smaller than my dad's, and there was a shiny black Honda in the driveway. I stared at it, waiting for someone to answer my knock, wondering if that was the car Edward had been in last night.

Instead of saying hello to Kate when she opened the door, I said, "You spent the night with my boyfriend." I watched her face, but her expression didn't change. She didn't frown or smile, but she did invite me in, and we sat at her kitchen table. She reached over to touch Masen's face. I didn't want her touching my baby so I pulled back. I declined her offer of a drink and let her talk to me, without offering any of the information I'd heard from Edward. I wanted to hear her unique version of the story.

"I didn't spend the night with Edward, Bella," she said, and I flinched. I couldn't stand the way she said his name and mine together. "He slept on the couch."

"Then why did you bring him here? He's friends with Alice. He could have stayed there if he was too drunk to drive."

"After you left with Jasper, he kept asking where you were. He asked everyone he passed if they'd seen you. I told him I thought you went home, and he wouldn't stop about needing to get home to you and his baby. I offered to give him a ride." She stood up from the table, took a few steps, pulled a glass out of a cabinet, filled it with tap water, and placed it in front of me.

I pushed it away. Hadn't she heard me when I'd said, 'no thank you'? I had no intention of drinking her water.

"Bella, Edward-"

"Could you stop that?"

"What?"

"Stop saying his name like that!" I walked away, into the living room while Masen squirmed in my arms. I held him to my chest with one arm while I unzipped his bag and yanked his blanket out. I struggled to lay it out on the carpet and glared at Kate when she tried to help me. I would rather it lay in tangled knots on the floor than accept her help. I placed Masen on his tummy and sat next to him, giving him a few small toys to bring to his mouth.

We were next to the blue couch where Edward must have slept. I avoided looking it, my heart speeding up. I couldn't wait to get out of that house.

"Bella?" I looked up at her and hated her looking down at me, so I stood up and faced her. "All he talked about was you. He told me about how soft your skin is. The way he talked about your skin, it made me want to touch you. He told me that your laugh is his favorite sound. He told me that you believe in him more than he believes in himself. He kept going on and on about you and kept forgetting to tell me where to turn. We made circles and u-turns a half dozen times before I finally decided to bring him to my house so he could sleep it off."

I stared at her for a minute, this new girl I barely knew. Rosalie's family. Could I believe her? Masen started fussing on the floor and I sighed, picking him up a little too roughly, frustrated that he kept interrupting, and then angry at myself for taking my stress out on him.

"Bella, he didn't even _try_ to touch me. And I didn't touch him either. I can get my own guys. I don't steal boyfriends, least of all, fiancés who have children."

My lips automatically met Masen's head when she said that.

"You should have seen him this morning."

I scoffed, but she ignored it.

"He didn't know what to do with himself. He was cursing and couldn't get out of here fast enough. Your friend Jasper picked him up."

My eyes stayed on her face for a few more moments trying to work things out in my head. Masen squirmed against me and his fussing turned to cries. I bounced him and patted his bottom, in an effort to calm him down. I allowed myself, for the first time since Edward had left my house, to visualize him as I'd last seen him. His bright green irises surrounded by red and curtained by tears.

Masen's fussing got louder, the bouncing not helping. "I need to change his diaper."

She grabbed for my bag, pulled a diaper out, and handed it to me. I changed him on the blanket on the floor, and then watched him kick his legs and bring his fist to his mouth.

"Bella?" I felt Kate's hand on my shoulder as Masen whined some more. "I didn't even have to tell Edward that nothing happened between us, because he already knew. I told him anyway, but he knew."

"I have to go," I said. "I need to see Edward."

I lifted Masen, stuffed the blanket and his toys back in the bag, and left Kate's house without a goodbye. Without a thank you. Without a glance back at her. I put my fussy baby in his carseat and drove away, letting the motion and the motor calm him down while my emotions sped up, full throttle.

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**A/N: **The next chapter will be Edward's Point of View (it won't be repetitive). I promise it will be up quickly. Are you ready?

Please review. :)


	19. Edward

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

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Not Without You

Chapter 19: Edward

**Edward's POV.**

It was awful, the bile in my throat, and the constant vibrating against my thigh was worse. I pulled the phone from my pocket without opening my eyes and answered with an unrecognizable voice.

"Edward. What the fuck, man? Why haven't you been answering?"

"J?"

"Are you at Kate's?"

My eyes shot open--I sat up too fast, my head moving in slow, agonizing circles as my eyes attempted to focus. Was I at fucking Kate's? I squinted in the darkness. Nothing was familiar.

"How-wh-where's Bella?" I'd meant to yell, but the arrows jabbing at my brain hindered my voice from mustering any sound above a hoarse whisper.

"Oh man, you are fucked. I'm on my way over. Your car's still at Alice's. You better fucking hope nothing went on there or I'll kill you before Bella does."

I stood up with a side-stumble, gripping the end table next to me for balance. I reached deep for my voice, forcing a shout regardless of the pain it caused. "Jasper, where the fuck is Bella?!"

"She's at Charlie's. I brought her home after you pissed her off."

I stared at the floor, searching my mind for anything remotely resembling what Jasper was saying. Confusion consumed me--questions flooding my thoughts. I upset Bella? Did we fight? Why am I at Kate's? I couldn't answer any of it--the memories lost. "Oh… fuck!"

"That's an understatement. Hold on. I'm almost there."

I slipped my phone back into my pocket. _Think. Why am I here? Why am I here?_

I grabbed at my clothes, all still on. Even my coat and shoes were on. And obviously I'd slept alone on the couch.

As a breath of relief brought me momentary peace, I remembered our arrival at the party. Bella and I were happy, laughing--I announced my love for her, and she was smiling. Why would we have fought? Everything beyond that last flash of a smile, before Alice stole Bella from my arms, was as black as my sight behind my tightly shut eyes. What happened after that? How did I end up here… without Bella? I knew nothing happened with Kate. I knew I couldn't do that to Bella. Not to Bella. But why was I here? Was it the fight? Did I get mad, too?

"Edward?" Kate's voice was floating to me from somewhere. I looked around the room but no one was there. "Were you yelling? You're going to wake up my parents." She was stepping down the stairs. I saw her feathered slippers first. She stopped in front of me, wrapped in a robe that looked like silk or satin. Something Bella would never wear. Bella wore my shirts to bed, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Of course I had no way of knowing what Bella wore to bed last night. She wasn't here with me. The wrong fucking girl was here. The wrong hair color, the wrong face, the wrong fucking voice. I let my head fall into my hands again.

"How are you feeling?"

"I can't fucking remember anything." I sat on the couch, head in my hands, squeezing. I needed to remember. I looked up at her. "Kate… why-what-wait..." Another memory of Bella hit me. There she was on Alice's sofa, asking me, whispering for me to stop touching her, but I didn't. That was the last time I saw her. The last time I saw and touched and kissed her beautiful face. "I'm such an asshole."

"Edward, I was sober. We didn't do anything last night. You were talking about Bella the entire time, until you passed out. Do you remember that?"

"I knew it was impossible. There's no way I would-"

"You didn't. You need some water."

I gave a painful head shake, but she brought me some anyway, along with a pain killer, and too much brightness as she flicked the switch. Eyes shut to block the light, I gulped down the water and the pill, then heard Jasper's honk outside. "I've got to go. Thanks." I handed her back the glass and took the few strides to the door. It was still dark outside and my eyes relaxed in their escape from the light. Even through the darkness, I could see Jasper stalking toward me. I'd never seen him this angry--didn't know he was capable of it. He shoved me hard against my chest, and in my state, I fell back, my hands catching me from landing on my ass.

"You tell me right the fuck now that nothing happened here!"

He was about to snap. He looked as if he would hit me, and at this point, I'd let him. I'd fucking take it. "Nothing happened," I said, standing up, brushing snow off my hands. "Does Bella know I'm here?"

"Not yet, but everyone else saw you leave with Kate. I went back for you and you were gone, and fucking _everyone_ knew where you went. Some people were laughing about it, and you know they will enjoy telling your fiancée. She's going to find out, Edward. And she's going to hear it from you, or she's going to hear it from me first, because if she hears about it from anyone at that party… you're over. You and Bella, fucking DONE!"

My nose stung and so did my eyes. I pressed against them. Was I about to lose it in front of Jasper? He must have felt it, because the next time he spoke he was calm.

"All right, so nothing happened. You're going to have to convince her of that. If you don't remember anything, that's going to be a hard thing to do. Not impossible, but fucking hard. At least you have love on your side, Edward. When she's around you, she sweats love."

And then I lost it. I hit the roof of his truck with my fist and collapsed my face into my arm against the window. Bella and Masen were the only coherent thoughts in my mind. I could see them clearer than the ground beneath me. I took a breath and fought to compose myself. Jasper put an arm over my shoulder. "Don't be embarrassed. If I thought I could lose Alice, I'd be sleeping in my own damn puddle. Get in the truck."

He pulled onto the street and I pulled out my phone to check the time. It was almost 4:30. My phone was blinking missed calls, so I listened to my messages. Three from Jasper, eight from Bella. She didn't sound angry. She sounded worried. I slumped low in my seat, playing them over and over, listening to her voice. Her voice. I leaned my head back on the seat, closed my eyes, and listened.

"She's fucking worried about me."

"I know. When I dropped her off last night, as angry as she was, she asked me to get you home safely."

"She would. She would think of me even at a time when I least deserved her thoughts. What am I going to tell her? I don't know what to say. No matter how I say it, I'm going to hurt her. I can't fucking hurt her. I can't see pain in her eyes caused by me. Oh fuck. Fuck!" I threw my fist at the dashboard, but Jasper's hand caught mine, blocking my contact.

"Don't take your shit out on my truck," he said, shaking the pain from his hand. "Look, man, there's no way to avoid hurting her. You've already done that. But you have to come up with something, because no matter how much it hurts her coming from you, it won't be nearly as bad as if someone else tells her."

"She's got to believe me. I've got to make her believe me."

"Do you believe you?"

"Yes. Nothing happened. Even if I don't remember, I _know_. It's how I feel and you know it too, otherwise I'd be knocked out right about now."

He nodded. As he pulled into Alice's driveway, I sent Bella a text telling her I'd be over in ten minutes. I pictured her face again. The way she looked at me, everyday. Would she look at me like that again? With love in her deep brown eyes? I'd kiss her before I told her. I had no choice. If she didn't believe me and it was the last time she would allow me to touch her, I needed to feel her lips one more time, the love she put behind her kisses. "She'd never fucking do this to me. And even though nothing happened, once I tell her that I left with Kate, that I slept at her house, I've brought doubt into our relationship. I've tainted us."

He turned the ignition off. "Edward. She did do it to you. It's not exactly the same, but she left you at Alice's party. She lied and tricked me into driving her home, telling me she was sick and that you knew she was leaving. She pretended everything was fine between you two. She left with me, like you left with Kate. Granted she just wanted to get home, but you get my point. She's not perfect. I know you think she is, but she's not. She's sweet, she's beautiful, she's selfless, but she's capable of mistakes. You have to recognize that."

"You're wrong. She is perfect. She wouldn't have left me at Alice's if I hadn't been an ass." I saw her then, again on Alice's couch. She'd held my face until my eyes landed on hers, and then she'd spoken. What words came from those perfect pink lips? What did she say? I closed my eyes, focusing on that second.

"I need you…" I heard her say--a ghostly whisper in Jasper's cab. She'd said she needed me for something and I'd cut her off. _What the fuck is wrong with me?_

"J? Did she say anything to you when you dropped her off? I think something happened at the party. I mean something besides my idiocy."

"She told me that someone said she's going to get herself pregnant again. That upset her bad. But I don't know anything else. It was hard enough for me to get that out of her."

"Who in the _fuck_ said that?"

"I don't know."

"Why did I fucking drink so much?" I began counting the drinks I'd had, but when I got to seven shots and two beers, I nearly vomited in my own lap, and had to stop. I swallowed the swamp that had swelled in my throat. "Why did I have to be that fucked up when she needed me?"

"Look man, we're fucking eighteen. That's what we do. We drink, we get fucked up, we make shitty choices."

"Shitty choices. And now I have to tell her about it. I can't stand to see her cry. She's going to cry."

"Yes, she is."

"I don't deserve her. I've always known that." I got out of the truck, slamming the door behind me.

"Edward!" Jasper called to me and I turned around. "Can you think of anyone who _does_ deserve her?"

I shook my head.

"You know how you feel about her, and how happy you want her to be. Don't you think you're her best option?"

I stared back at him, unconvinced.

"You've got to pull yourself out of this train of thought. If you feel unworthy or guilty, she'll pick up on it and you'll never convince her. You know nothing happened. You're sorry for hurting her. Be honest with yourself; self-loathing is not going to help you."

"Thanks, J. Thanks for coming to get me, too." I got into my car and headed for Charlie's.

Headed for Bella.

I remembered that first pull I felt in my chest for Bella. She'd had a hold on me from the beginning. We were at the beach, before the grapes, just walking in the sand and she'd stumbled every few steps. I was afraid she'd hurt herself, and tried to keep my eyes on her without being too obvious. That one time, she almost fell--that was it. The tug at my heart as I reached for her, but she'd caught herself before I touched her. She turned, saw me looking, and gave me that smug look, a small, satisfied smile I'd wanted to kiss.

Back then, I couldn't hold her gaze long. I'd tried, but she always looked away quickly. Even so, there was no missing her eyes. Especially in the sun that day--the red and amber in them--so much more than simply brown, just as she was so much more than any other girl. And then the grapes. She couldn't catch one in her mouth. I almost felt bad each time I caught one, but she was determined to catch one. If it took all night, she'd catch one. When she finally did, she was so happy, I could have tackled her right there in the sand. I would have if I'd known she felt the same about me. But she was such an exception to how other girls behaved. Instead of hanging on every word I said, and agreeing with me at every turn, she challenged me, threw sarcasm at me. It wasn't what I was used to--her indifference toward me. I was sure she saw us as nothing more than friends.

Even now that I knew her so well, she'd remained unpredictable, always surprising me. That night she'd asked me to cut her hair, I loved her even more for that. Eight months pregnant, and she'd tried to clean up the mess on the floor. I had to snag the broom from her hands, and still she insisted on holding the dustpan.

As it was, before last night, I'd never be able to repay her for placing my Stanford hopes before herself. She'd insisted, never backing down, and this is what I give her? In that instant, with that thought, I nearly talked myself into letting her go. Maybe without me she'd pursue her own dreams and forget mine.

A flash in my mind of Bella and Masen kept me from turning the car around. The way they played and laughed together, the way she fell asleep with him on top of her. They were two angels in my life. I couldn't lose them. I'd fight for them with everything inside me.

Charlie's police cruiser wasn't out front. He must have left for work already. In the second story, the light was on in Bella's room. The only light in the house. I looked up at her window where she was now with our son. Right now she still loved me. In this dark, cold moment as I stood outside her house, she was warm in the light, and she loved me. I closed my eyes--felt her love. Was I about to change that?

_Trust me, Bella_, I thought. _Believe me. I'd never hurt you. Never hurt you. Don't let me fucking hurt you._

_

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**A/N: **Please review. :)_


	20. Return

Not Without You

Chapter 20: Return

Jasper's truck was there, snow layering the roof, when I pulled into the Cullens' drive just before seven. I lifted Masen from his carseat and held him close, my hand against his soft head. I wanted to keep him quiet as I snuck up to his room, hopefully unseen. I nursed him again until he fell asleep. I had to keep him as full and satisfied as possible so I could speak to Edward without any interruption. Still, I couldn't resist kissing his cheek, risking his stirring before I laid him in his crib. His head lolled to the side with a quiet sigh. I took the baby monitor to Edward's room.

Edward and Jasper were both facing the window by the desk, Jasper turning around first. I set the baby monitor on the nearest shelf, but remained in my spot by the door.

"Bella," Jasper said.

That brought Edward instantly around, hands jammed into his pockets, shoulders hunched. "Bella, you're here." His mouth fell just slightly open, his eyelids were swollen, and his hair was messier than usual. He looked wrecked, and he didn't move. Jasper moved, though; he walked toward me and hugged me, without giving me a chance to protest. I wouldn't have this time, but he didn't know that.

"He's telling the truth," Jasper whispered in my ear.

I nodded. He kissed my cheek and Edward averted his eyes until Jasper left, closing the door behind him.

"Did you come," Edward asked, his eyelids shutting tight, "to pick up your things?" He stood stiff and appeared to be holding his breath.

"No."

He opened his eyes again and breathed, but didn't relax, not completely. "Oh. Does that mean… you believe me?"

"Edward." His eyes closed again when I said his name, but not tight like before, and he opened them quickly. "My first inclination was to trust you and just let you hold me, but you were so drunk last night and you woke up-"

"I know."

"With no recollection of how you got there. I… I couldn't be sure. I trust you, Edward. I trust this Edward who is looking at me right now. But as drunk as you were and as unaware of your actions as you were, can you see why I doubted you?"

"I understand how it looked. That's why I was so afraid to tell you. But I _know, _as well as I know that I'm standing here and you're standing there, as beautiful as ever, that nothing happened with Kate."

"I believe you."

"You do?"

I nodded.

"Bella." He paused and looked down for a minute. He seemed to study the floor, then he looked at me again. "I remembered how I ended up in Kate's car. I wanted her to take me to you. She offered to and I wanted to see you so badly. She was my path to you. But… I never got to you."

"I know."

"How?"

"I went to see Kate. I had to see her. I thought I could surprise her and study the first expression I saw on her face, and then I would know the truth. But I don't know what I was thinking, because I couldn't even read _your_ face, and I know you like I know myself."

"You do believe me, though? That nothing happened? Nothing at all?" He took a step toward me.

I nodded, my face falling to the floor.

He let out a breath. "Thank you. You don't know how much it means to me that you believe me. But I remembered more." He took another step toward me, and my eyes shot to his as I remembered his deathly appearance that moment he'd turned from the window.

"What else?"

"No. Don't panic." He reached out for me, but didn't touch me, letting his hand return to his side. "I remember going from her car to the house, and straight to the couch. She asked me if I wanted a blanket, and I said that all I needed was you. All I need is Bella. She told me to go to sleep and that I would see you when I woke up. Then I fell asleep without even realizing it until my phone woke me up. I had no doubt that I kept my hands to myself, but now I remember it, too."

"You didn't touch her, and she didn't touch you because she's Kate. But what if it had been Jessica or Lauren?" I saw him cringe and shake his head. "They wouldn't have been as kind. One of them would have taken advantage of your state. And what would have happened then? Where would we be now?"

"Bella, I don't think you understand how I feel about you. Even when I'm that drunk, some girl touching me isn't going to break me, or make me forget my love for you. I'm stronger than that, and so are my feelings."

I nodded. "Still, never put yourself in a position like that again."

"I won't"

"Never."

"I won't. Not ever."

"Edward?"

"Yes, love?"

I closed my eyes and let tears of relief squeeze their way through my eyelids when he called me 'love.'

"What is it, Bella? Are you still hurting?"

I shook my head. "Edward… you can touch me now. You can-"

Before I finished my sentence, his arms were around me, and he was speaking to me in repetitive patterns of love and apologies. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I hurt you. I love you, Bella. I love you. I'm sorry."

"I love you, too."

He let out a deep breath and held me almost too tight when I said that. "Please say that again."

"I love you, Edward."

"Bella, please, could you just… one more time?"

I pulled back to look into his eyes. "Edward, I promise. I love you."

He took my face and kissed all over--my eyes, my tears, my temples, the sides of my nose, my lips. And the tears on his face blended with mine. It was relief for both of us. "God. I'm grateful you're here. I'm so thankful that you're here." He kissed across my forehead and down the side of my face, and then his fingers hooked under my shirt. "May I? May I have your skin?"

I nodded, and he lifted my shirt over my head. His hands at my shoulders felt their way down my arms. He kissed the corner of my shoulder where it met my collarbone and then the top of my shoulder. Then he kissed down my upper arm to the inside of my elbow. He kissed there three times. And then he slipped his lips along my skin to the inside of my wrist, and he held it there against his lips while his other hand caressed up and down my forearm. He seemed to be savoring my arm. Then he kissed each of my fingers before he brought our hands down between us, and looked into my eyes.

His knuckles brushed my face. "I could never do that to you. I could never betray you, no matter how drunk I am. Okay? And if I did, which I wouldn't, but if I did, I wouldn't expect you to forgive me, and I wouldn't deserve forgiveness. I wouldn't even ask you for it because I wouldn't deserve it. Bella, my love, when I look at my life--when I look at the present, the past, and the future--all I see is you. You and Masen. You're the one, Bella. The _one_."

I leaned into him and his arms held me tight.

"Can I keep you here?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Don't leave my arms."

"I won't."

"I can't ever lose you. When you're not with me, I'm empty."

"Me too," I said.

"Really?"

I nodded. "Yes, it's like I don't have any insides at all. Hollow."

"Exactly." He squeezed me tighter, and then he released me to unbutton and unzip my jeans as he stared into my eyes. "There's something I want to do for you." He pushed my pants down and I stepped out.

"Lie down," he said. But instead of letting me lie down on my own, he lifted me and placed me on his bed, then he sat beside me, gazing over my body. His fingers came to my neck. "I want to kiss you here…" he let his fingers drift to the bottom of my throat, "and here…" His fingers trailed down to my chest, then he reached around to remove my bra, and his hand found my breasts, the backs of his fingers lightly sweeping my nipples one at a time, _"_…and here…" My eyes closed as he let a hand continue down my stomach and slide into my panties. My legs and my lips parted at the same time. His fingers pressed against me inside my panties and my eyes closed. "And there."

His fingers stayed where they were, moving in soft circles at first, while his lips feathered my neck--the first spot he'd told me he wanted to kiss. He teased with his tongue as his fingers continued their teasing. His lips followed the same trail his hands had made down my chest.

"I need you to know I love you. Do you know I love you, Bella?"

"Yes."

"Beyond a doubt?" he asked, his lips and tongue on my breasts--one, then the other, then the other again.

"Yes… Edward…"

"You have my heart. You've always had it." His fingers didn't stop in my panties, and I felt them enter me and my hips lifted, and his lips and tongue didn't stop on my breast either.

"Edward?"

"Yes, love?" His lips continued a path down the center of my stomach, but his hand did not move from inside my panties.

"I… I… love you, too. Take off my underwear."

"I would, but I don't want to stop touching you."

"Oh God…" I reached up to grab the pillow, squeezing, while my body squirmed beneath him as he touched and kissed me until I couldn't stand it anymore. I brought my own hands to my panties, pushing them down over my hips, lifting my legs out of them so my poor boyfriend wouldn't have to stop touching me, and he didn't.

"Thank you," he said, leaving kisses along my hipbone and lower to where my panties once lay, and my hips lifted against his mouth, my head tilting back, and I couldn't remember why we'd fought or why we weren't fighting anymore.

"Edw…" My eyes were closed again and I was gone. There was nothing at all but Edward and his lips and tongue, his fingers, his love. And I was completely naked and he was completely dressed, and he was giving me what he thought I needed, and I did. I needed it. And when all that I was feeling and all that Edward offered overtook me, it brought with it tears to my eyes and a tightness in my throat that I never wanted to leave. It was the feeling of Edward, and he was locked inside me, and I would never let him out.

Edward lay down beside me, pulling me to his chest. I buried my face into his shirt and let my breathing and quivers calm. "Bella?" He kissed my head.

"Yes?" I said into cotton, reaching for his waist, squeezing his shirt to bring him closer. He moved closer for me. It still wasn't close enough and I pulled him tighter. Couldn't I just be inside him?

"That was for you. I wanted to give you some of the happiness that I took away. But Bella, I want you so much. I… may I make love to you now?"

I lifted my head and looked down at him. "You don't have to ask."

"Yes I do. I hurt you, and now I want something that only you can give me. I can't take it or, like you said earlier, manipulate you with kisses. I need your permission."

"You don't need my permission, Edward. It was a horrible, awful misunderstanding, but you didn't mean to hurt me. Don't ask, just kiss me."

He didn't, though. He looked up at me and reached for my face, brushing my cheek with his knuckles as if I was made of glass and might break. "I don't know what I did to deserve you. Please, don't let me mess this up."

"Nobody's going to mess this up. Don't talk like that. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

His thumb brushed over my lips. "Bella, if you saw what I saw today at your dad's house_, _how badly I hurt you… I've never seen you like that. _I_ did that to you. That scares the hell out of me."

"But you said you're never going to do it again."

"I'm not. But the fact that I did--I don't know. I hate myself for putting you through that. I wanted to pick you up, kiss you and make it all disappear, but you wouldn't even let me touch you. You hit my hands away."

"I'm sorry. I couldn't--."

"No. Don't apologize. That's not what I mean. I meant that I can't believe I made you feel that way. I'm sorry, not only for the misunderstanding, but for the way you felt. For making you cry."

"It's done, Edward."

"That doesn't mean I'm all right with it."

"Okay, but look at me."

"I am looking at you. I can't look away."

"I'm not crying anymore. It's in the past now. Leave it."

He still didn't kiss me, so I leaned down and kissed him and, though he kissed me back, his lips remained closed. That's when I realized that Edward hadn't kissed my lips open-mouthed since I'd been back. I stared down at him for a few seconds--he still looked so sad. He really didn't think he deserved this. I touched his face. "Edward, don't punish yourself. You need to forgive yourself. I forgive you."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I thought…" I frowned. I hadn't actually said that to him yet. Was that what he was waiting to hear? "I thought you knew that."

"I hoped."

"Well I do forgive you. Now stop this nonsense and kiss me. Don't you _want_ to kiss me?"

And then he did my favorite thing. He answered me with kisses. He held my face tight to his, and his tongue was finally in my mouth, and I took it eagerly with a moan and everything. He moaned back, and then I kissed his jaw and his throat and his ear. And I did that thing with my tongue that I now knew he liked, because he told me when he was drunk, and he moaned again--his breathing picking up. I smiled and kissed back down his throat, but then my lips hit his shirt and I stopped. I lifted my face and looked down at him, and he opened his eyes.

"If I told you that something was wrong between us, would you fix it?" I asked.

"Anything. What's wrong?"

"I'm naked and you're not."

He laughed and shook his head.

"It's not funny. It's a serious problem. I need your shirt off now. And your pants." I moved back and helped him take off his shirt, kissing his chest as soon as I saw it. The chest I loved, and my hands followed my mouth, heading down to his pants. I unbuttoned them, unzipped them, and pushed them down over his legs along with his boxers. And as soon as I saw him naked, I didn't even bother pushing his pants all the way off, I just took him into my hand and caressed until he closed his eyes and groaned. I let my lips find his, and he kissed me back with such fervor that it almost hurt. But it didn't hurt; it felt so good, and when I quickened the pace of my hand, he pulled his lips from mine.

"Bella…" he panted. "You don't know how badly I've wanted you. I can't last long. I want you, Bella. Right now."

I kissed his lips again and gave him what he wanted. Me. I placed myself on top of him and gave him me. And he grabbed my hips and took me, and it made me smile. He smiled back, and then one hand came to my back, leading my face to his lips, and his other hand remained on my hip, pushing me as close to him as he could get me as we made love. And he was right, he didn't last long, but it was long enough because after that, as close as I was against him, I couldn't hold out any longer either. And we kissed through our orgasms, exchanging moans and breaths and even bites. I bit his lip because I couldn't help it, but he didn't complain. And then we took a few seconds to try to breathe before we kissed some more.

"I am so in love with you," he said between kisses, "it doesn't even seem possible."

"Me too," I said between kisses. "How is this possible?"

"I don't know." He lifted my face from his again like he was going to say something, but then he laughed.

"What?"

He traced the outside of my lips. "You're all red right here. Has my stubble been bothering you?"

I shrugged. "I didn't notice."

He kissed me again. "I wish I was done with college so we could get married."

I gazed down at him. I was eighteen now and so was he, and our feelings for each other hadn't changed. In fact, our feelings, though seemingly impossible, were constantly growing.

"What are you thinking? Did I scare you? I just said 'wish,' that's all."

"No, you didn't scare me--not at all. The opposite."

"The opposite of scare? That's good, Bella! But the responsible thing would be to wait, right?"

"I guess."

"You guess?" He laughed and squeezed me, and rolled us over so he was on top of me. "Who are you and what have you done with my Bella?"

"I'm the same Bella. You just keep changing me with your… you."

"Well, you keep changing me with your you, too." He glanced over at the clock on his nightstand. "Are you tired? It's getting late."

"I'm hungry. I don't remember eating today. I couldn't eat."

"Bella." He kissed my cheek and shook his head. "Let's get you something to eat."

"Does that mean we have to get dressed?"

"Unfortunately, it does. Here," he said, tossing me his T-shirt. "Just wear that. I don't see any reason why you need your underwear, though."

I laughed at him, standing up and pulling his Edward-scented shirt over my head. He pulled up his pants that had never made it all the way off.

"Don't laugh," he said. "Remember all those times you insisted I not wear a shirt? Now I'm insisting. No panties."

"You sound cute when you say _panties_." I touched his lips. "Say it again."

"No panties." He kissed me, then took my hand. "Let's check on Masen, first. I haven't seen him all day."

We peered, hand in hand, into Masen's crib. "He's still so beautiful," Edward said, and he brought the back of his fingers to his son's cheek. "He takes after his mommy. Same soft skin." The hand that was touching Masen came to cover my chest. "I hope he has your heart."

"I hope he has yours," I said.

"No. Mine's not good enough. He needs yours."

"Edward, don't say that. I love you, and you do not have permission to talk like that about yourself."

"I'll stop."

I made him leave before we woke Masen up. He'd be up early enough as it was, and after eating it would be nice to get some real sleep. Any sleep I'd had in the last twenty four hours had been tainted by restless worry, sadness, or fear.

In the kitchen, Edward pulled me onto his lap, where we shared a chair and a plate of reheated chicken. He put a piece of chicken in my mouth and said, "Jasper pissed me off tonight."

"What?"

"Yeah, I know. It was weird. For as long as I've known him, I can't ever remember actually wanting to hit him like I did tonight."

I shifted on his lap to face him. "What are you talking about?'

"I've noticed that ever since you two met, he touches you… _a lot_. I mean, not as much as he touches Alice, obviously, but he touches you like he feels the need to take care of you. And it never really bothered me until tonight."

"You're jealous of Jasper?" I laughed.

"Not usually, but he kissed you tonight. If I wasn't worried about you leaving, I seriously would have grabbed him and pulled him off of you. Mostly because I wasn't sure how you were feeling, and if I wouldn't be allowed to kiss you again, I did not want his to be the last lips on you."

"Edward, he kissed me to make me feel better. He whispered to me that you were telling the truth. He wants us to work things out. Don't be angry with him."

"I'm not. Not anymore. But at the time, I wanted to tear him off you. I know it's irrational, considering everything he did for me today, but that was how I felt. I can't help that. Don't worry. He wanted to kick my ass today, too."

"When? When he was over here?"

"No. He picked me up from Kate's this morning to take me to my car. He was ready to kill me, and that's not an exaggeration. I would have let him, too. If he tried, he would have had me."

"What stopped him?"

"He believed me when I told him nothing happened with Kate." His arms encircled me, holding me tight. "I almost lost you. I was too close to losing you. You don't know how that feels."

"Yes I do."

He loosened his hold and looked up at me.

"I thought about what I would do if I found out something went on between you and Kate. All I saw in a world without you was blackness. I think I was talking myself into compromising my feelings just to stay with you. To try to forget anything that may have happened. I don't know if it would have worked, or if that's right or wrong. I know it's probably wrong--probably pathetic. But to live without you, that would be like hell."

"Bella." He pushed at my hair and brought his hand down my back. "You'll never have to do that." He kissed my temple, his lips against my pulsing blood. "We're going to be together for the rest of our lives, and you'll never have to compromise yourself or your convictions just to be with me. I'm going to be what you need--what you deserve. Okay, baby? I'm going to deserve the love you have for me."

"You deserve it." I gave him the kind of kiss that showed him he deserved my love, but he shook his head, shook my lips away.

"I made the worst kind of mistake last night. I jeopardized our relationship. I've never been that drunk. I've never woken up somewhere and not had any memory of the night before."

"Edward. That's what it was though, a mistake. I know you love me. After everything you've done for me and everything we've been through, it's impossible not to see that. You love me."

"Yes, I do."

"And I know that."

"Good." He gave me another bite of chicken that was now getting cool. "Bella, apparently people saw me leave with Kate last night, and you know how rumors spread. Just because we're willing to forget everything doesn't mean everyone else will let us. It's good you don't have to see them all everyday."

"Do you think they'll taunt you like they did when they found out I was pregnant?"

"I have no doubt. And Kate, they'll taunt her, too."

I looked down at my hands, but he lifted my chin until I met his gaze.

"I won't talk to her if you don't want me to. I'll stay away from her. It's nothing to me anyway. I hardly know her."

"You don't have to avoid her. I'll tell you one thing, though. If Kate ever touches you in front of me, she won't be so pretty anymore."

"Bella-"

"Wait. I shouldn't have said that. I told you to put it in the past and then I said that. It's just, the wound is still fresh. I won't bring it up again."

"I was just going to say that you turn me on when you're possessive." He gave me a sideways smile.

"Everything turns you on."

"Everything about you, that is." He turned me around on his lap so I was straddling him and his hands were on my thighs, working their way up, under my shirt as he kissed me. He groaned into my mouth when he was reminded I wasn't wearing panties and he lifted his hips, pushing against me. Our breathing sped and his touch was soft under my shirt, continuing up to cup my breasts, and already we knew that sleep was _not_ something we would be doing any time soon.

"Bella," his lips traveled down my chin, down my neck, to the bottom of my throat. "I fucking want you again. I can't get enough of you."

I let him know he could have me by moving my lips and tongue to his neck and across his bare collarbone. Our desire for each other was building so fast and so strong, I knew we had to calm down before we couldn't stop ourselves and made love right on this chair. But that thought only kept me right there, straddling his lap, my desire for him growing uncontrollable. My hand came between us to unbutton his jeans.

"Edward… your… your parents."

His hands froze under my shirt and his lips paused at my ear. "I don't care," he said, his mouth and hands moving over my skin again.

"I do, Edward. Please. Not here." I knew that I couldn't move away from his lap. I was relying on his strength and self-control. He stood up, lifting me with him, my legs wrapping his waist. He headed for the living room, toward the stairs, but stopped next to the piano, pressing me up against the wall, kissing deep into my mouth.

"I can't go any farther," he gasped. "I'll never make it upstairs."

"Put me down," I said, thinking I could take him upstairs by his hand. Maybe if we weren't so close, we could slow things down a bit. On my feet, I was weak. He was still kissing my neck. I took two steps, then had to sit down on the piano bench. I thought I'd let the dizziness pass and then stand again, but Edward's lips were on me, and my body was falling back against the bench. I tried to catch myself, somehow forgetting what was next to me, and my hand pressed onto the piano keys. I jumped at the sound, and we both laughed. But the laugh was quick, and the kisses between our lips took over again. I glanced over Edward's shoulder at the stairway, positive I'd see Carlisle or Esme descending, but nobody was there, so I closed my eyes and gave into passion and Edward. At some point, he'd undone his jeans and pushed them down. I knew because he lifted my legs and entered me. I raised my hips in surprise, and we both groaned. I pulled his shoulders to get him closer.

"You feel so good, Bella. Nothing in the world compares to you."

His movements picked up speed, and the only coherent anything I could get out was, "Edward."

Then we were breaths and moans and groans, kisses, licks, and bodies. He pushed into me so deeply that I had to grab hold of something, but there was nothing around me but him, so I clawed into his shoulders. He held my hips and moved even deeper into me, and that was when I lost myself. "Oh…God." There was no piano bench or living room or house, and I didn't know if I was quiet or loud, because I couldn't hear or see a thing.

"Bella," groaned Edward, "Bella." Then he collapsed on top of me--all of his weight on me, and I held him there, quivering beneath him.

"Is this a dream?" I asked.

"I hope not," he said against my neck, his voice grainy and hoarse.

I laughed. "We've had sex twice tonight and you haven't even removed your pants once."

He laughed, too, and lifted me off the piano bench and onto the ground, where he held me tight and close. "I could fall asleep with you right here on the wood floor."

"Me too," I said.

"Maybe we should go upstairs before that happens."

"We probably should, considering I'm still not wearing any panties."

He covered his eyes. "Don't say that, Bella. I'd like to actually make it up the stairs this time."

"Don't say what? That I'm not wearing panties?"

He rolled us over so he was hovering over me, and he kissed my chin. "You are dangerous."

"It was your rule."

"Dangerous or not, it's a good fucking rule." He stood up, took my hand and pulled me to my feet. "Come on."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned against him. "I'm tired. Carry me."

"Because that worked so well last time?"

"If you carry me, I can kiss you all the way up the stairs."

He lifted me up and headed for the stairs. I kept my promise and began my kisses along his jaw. Halfway upstairs, my lips made it to his ear and he stumbled. We both laughed, and he almost dropped me, but I caught myself on the railing. "I'm tired, too," he said, and we laughed harder. I had to sit on the step, I was laughing so hard, and I held my stomach, trying to laugh quietly, because if we'd made it this far without waking up Carlisle and Esme, there was no point in waking them with our laughter.

"Shh," I said through laughs, but I wasn't any quieter.

"What are you two doing?" Carlisle asked from the top of the stairs.

I stood up straight and tugged at the hem of my shirt, pulling it as low as I could get it over my thigh.

"Um…" I said, stepping behind Edward.

"Um," Edward said, too, "we were… laughing." He shrugged.

Carlisle shook his head. "Your mother and I are trying to sleep. It's after 2:00. You have your own bedroom you can… _laugh_ in." He narrowed his eyes at us. "Goodnight."

My forehead fell to Edward's back. "Please tell me he meant that. Please tell me he was talking about laughing."

Edward turned and put an arm over my shoulders, guiding me up the stairs with him. "Bella sweetie, you know he didn't mean laughing."

"Oh god." I buried my face in my hands.

"Don't be embarrassed. Be glad he didn't come out of his room ten minutes earlier. He's only speculating right now, but if he'd been earlier, he would have witnessed what we did on his piano bench."

"Poor bench," I said. "It's not made for that kind of activity."

We stopped in Masen's room for one last kiss goodnight before we went to our room, finally allowing each other to sleep.


	21. Ambition

**Stephenie Meyer Owns Twilight.**

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 21: Ambition

I wasn't home when Edward returned from school on Monday. I was on my way to Alice's house--Masen in the backseat, experimenting with all his baby sounds at differing octaves. His low growls had me laughing, while his high-pitched tones had me covering my ears, and grinding my teeth, smiling all the while. The elementary school had just let out, and I was stuck behind the crosswalk as a crossing-guard posted herself in the middle of the street, her stop sign over-head, while a seemingly never-ending stream of kids swarmed past her. There were a ton of them, marching like worker ants, all different sizes and ages. A tiny boy and girl stood out, their knit hats bouncing with their heads as they galloped by, mittened-hand-in-mittened hand. They couldn't have been older than Kindergartners, and I wondered how their parents felt comfortable allowing them to walk home without adult supervision. Would I become that lenient someday?

As it was now, I planned on never letting Masen out of my sight in public. I turned to look at him in the back. He was wide-eyed, grabbing for his feet, still mingling his coos with his squeals. How many blinks would it be before he was school-aged and walking hand and hand with a friend? I'd be in my twenties by then, but where we would be living was a mystery. Edward would have graduated college, so we wouldn't necessarily still be in California. More than likely, Edward and I would be married, though, and with that I smiled. Hopefully, my mother will have met my son by then, and perhaps our relationship would be as strong as it once was. I scoffed at the improbability of that. Neither of us had made any effort to contact each other since Masen was born. If my dad had been in touch with her, he hadn't spoken to me about it.

Finally the kids were safely on the sidewalk, and the crossing-guard resumed her seat on her fold-out chair on the opposite street corner, allowing me to pass.

Alice pulled into her driveway seconds after I'd parked alongside her curb.

It hadn't snowed last night, so though snow still frosted the ground and clung to tops of tree branches, there was less of it. I let myself imagine how nice it would be if the snow would continue its retreat for the winter, the sun indulging us for once, drying the ground completely. Maybe heavy coats wouldn't even be necessary. They'd be a nuisance more than anything, something we'd end up carrying instead of wearing. But then I wouldn't be in Forks, would I? I got myself and my little noisy bundle out of the warmth of the car.

"Bella!" she said, shutting her door, throwing her book bag over her shoulder. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you," I said, wrapping Masen's blanket snugly around him.

"Hi, Masen." Her lips left a red stain on his pink cheek, and he gave her a drool-filled smile. I wiped his puddling lips with the end of his blanket. "Yeah, so, I can guess what you want to talk about. I suppose I let the drunken cat out of the bag at my party. Come in."

I followed her up to her room. This time there was no abandoned cocktail for her to sip to calm her nerves. I could have used some nerve-calming, myself. I was unsure how to bring the subject up, and you may have noticed by now, whenever that happens, I just end up blurting it out.

"You're not going to college."

She took a breath. "It's not that I'm not _ever _going. We've just decided to spend the year traveling." She nodded, as if agreeing with herself. Or maybe she wanted me to agree.

"Traveling? What, like backpacking around Europe?" I'd heard of people doing that after high school--staying in hostels, sharing bathrooms. I shuddered at the thought.

She shook her head. "We're going to start here, travel the country and volunteer at shelters. You know, for homeless or battered women and children. Jasper wants to do it, and I think it will be good for me, too. He'll start his own shelter someday, but he wants to visit them first, see what works, what doesn't, what can be improved. Can you believe him? I mean, that's what his dream is. His heart is bigger than all of ours combined."

"He has the best heart," I said, kissing Masen, then placing him in the middle of Alice's pink comforter. He tried to put the material in his mouth, but I took it from his hand, leaving only his fist to munch on. He seemed happy with that.

"You think I'm wasting my year," Alice said. "That I shouldn't take the year off with Jasper."

"First of all, it doesn't matter what I think. It's your life. But no. I think what you're doing is very brave. It's admirable."

"Thank you." Her lips raised into a satisfied grin. She picked up Masen, lifting him above her head. "You're the sweetest baby, Masen."

"He knows that," I said. "He uses it to his advantage already."

"Bella," she said, Masen on her hip. "When I started to tell you this at my party, you looked angry. You looked disgusted with me." She illustrated my disgust with a scrunch of her nose.

I shook my head. "Like I said, I was thrown off. It wasn't something I expected. I had no idea what your plans were. We've never talked about it. I just always assumed they'd include college."

"Because college is something _you_ would do."

I went to her window. Out back, snow covered the dormant garden, save for a few winter flowers that I knew would be sprouting up right through the snow down there, but from up here they were invisible. On days when it wasn't raining, Alice's mother would bring a sunlamp outside to prop over her winter flower bed, just to get her bulbs to bloom up through the snow. I watched her once from the kitchen window, and while Alice had laughed at her mom's efforts, I was entranced by them. None of the flowers I'd planted in the Cullens' garden last spring had held life through Fall. I hoped they'd be back again next season.

"Am I right? Did you have a college plan before…"

I kept my eyes outside, squinting to see spots of blue and yellow over the snow blanket. This wasn't a conversation I wanted to have. I'd rather discuss winter blooms, or anything else, really. "Your mom's flowers are still alive, right?"

"Bella, talk to me. No more avoidance."

I faced her, still reluctant to release my old college ambitions from the safety of my guarded mind. "I've never talked about this before to anyone but my mom. If I do it now, it's between you and me. Are you comfortable keeping something from Jasper? I don't want it getting back to Edward."

"It's none of Jasper's business, but why can't Edward know?"

"Because it's pointless and it will only make him feel bad."

"I promise. Nobody will hear about it from me." She kissed two fingers and held them up, as if I wouldn't have trusted her otherwise.

"I've always avoided considering an ideal college, because I could never afford it anyway, but I knew I would study literature, and someday, maybe, teach it. Don't laugh."

"Why would I laugh? That's perfect for you. But it's not pointless. You can do it."

"I'm going to do it, but after Edward finishes."

"So, that's why Edward doesn't know? Because you're letting him go first?"

"The night we told our parents about my pregnancy, my mom was totally against…" I glanced at Masen in Alice's arms. He kept reaching for the flippy wisps of her hair, while she kept staving him off with her free hand. "…Well, you know how she felt. She said that my future would suffer more than Edward's because that's the way our society is. I would hate for Edward to think that my future was suffering because of him. And you know he would think that way. He might already. But with Edward's brains and opportunity, it makes sense for him to go first. It's not about whose future is more important. It's a family choice."

"Is it a family choice if Edward isn't aware of your plans? If I know Edward, he would not want to head off to Stanford without knowing about this."

"That was the old me. My wants are different now. Besides, at this point, I couldn't stand being away from Masen. He's just a baby." I took him from Alice and kissed him. "Having a baby doesn't just change your life's path, it changes your perspective. Maybe it's not ideal, but this is the way I want it."

"It makes me wonder if any of us really have control over our lives. Or does our fate just fall around us wherever and whenever it may land?"

"I've asked that, too, and I'll tell you something Edward taught me. We make our own choices. That's how we have control. No matter what life throws at us, we always have a choice."

"How do you know if it's the right choice?"

"Faith? I don't know," I held Masen tighter, looking down at him, his fist in his mouth, his eyes unfocused. "You can't really know until you know." I lifted a framed picture of Alice and Jasper off the dresser and showed it to Masen. He grabbed it from me, and Alice's hand reached out in an effort to catch it if it fell. I held on to it, to make sure that didn't happen, letting his fingers explore it for a moment, before returning it to the dresser. "Are you questioning your decision?" I asked.

"I never question my decisions. I worry about how people will accept them, but I never question them. If I changed my mind tomorrow, I wouldn't question that either." She shrugged her shoulders, as if a sudden change of mind that would affect her year, and possibly her entire future, would make no difference.

"I can't believe you and Rosalie ever became friends. She's probably had her life mapped out since she was five. You and she are like night and day."

"And yet night wouldn't have meaning without day." She smiled.

"You should run that by Emmett," I said. "I'm sure he could find a way."

"Uh, yeah, no thanks. I can just imagine that hour long conversation. It would end with us somehow being controlled by the calendar. But… speaking of choices, what about Edward's choice the other night?" Her fists came to her hips, much like Wonder Woman--her tough Alice stance. "Wait until I get that boy alone. I have a thing or eighty to say to him."

"Don't. Please don't. He's punished himself enough. Believe me. We just want to forget about it."

Alice laughed. "Forget about it?"

"Why's that funny?"

"Don't you think Rosalie is over there right now giving him a lashing?"

"No! You really think she is?"

"I know she is. Bella, you'd think you would understand their relationship by now. She is not going to let Edward get away with making an ass of himself."

"Why wouldn't she have just talked to him at school?"

"No way. Everyone was giving him enough grief at school."

"What?" Masen grabbed hold of a chunk of my hair at the nape of my neck and yanked at it, trying to mouth it. I winced, working his fingers to loosen his grasp.

"Bella. Prepare yourself. According to the rumors at school, Edward has been having flings all along. And now that you _know_..." She held her fingers up, forming air quotes, "word is, you and Edward are on the outs. Some kids have you living back at your dad's already. I can't even deny it when they ask me about it because then they assume I'm lying and covering for you. I just tell them to get lost. And the girls are…"

"The girls are what?" I brushed all of my hair around to the front of my shoulder opposite Masen, holding his hands away. Why had I left all of his toys in the car?

"Coming on to him again."

I groaned. "I can't _wait_ until high school is over. I have to go." If Rosalie was with Edward, I had to stop her before she brought his guilt to the forefront of his mind all over again.

I pulled Alice into a one armed hug, and with the end of high school still lingering in my thoughts, I found myself holding on a little longer than I'd intended.

"Before you go, I have a favor to ask."

"What?"

"Will you tell Rosalie about my travel plans? She'll be more open to the idea knowing you've accepted it."

"What is with everyone thinking it's easier for me to talk to Rosalie than it is for anyone else? She intimidates all of us equally."

"It _is _easier for you. I've seen it. I don't know why. Maybe it's because you two started out as enemies."

"Alice, I'm sorry. But this is something you have to do. I'll be there for you if you want, but the words have to come from you."

"Fine. Be that way." She folded her arms across her chest, pouting at me.

"Does that work on Jasper?"

"I'll remember this," she said, waving a finger at me. "Just wait until you need a babysitter." Tugging on Masen's hand, she whispered into his ear. "I'm only kidding. Auntie Alice will babysit you anytime."

His answering squeal was loud enough to send both of our heads retracting from him. He looked like he'd even surprised himself with that one, and the three of us laughed together.

* * *

Edward was studying alone when I got home. Masen, who was taking fewer naps these days, wasn't even close to being sleepy, so I'd brought him with me to Edward's room. Edward turned to us with a smile, then came to hug me and kiss Masen. "I missed you two." He took Masen from my arms and gave me a long kiss. Unsteady on my tiptoes, I had to hold the v-line of his shirt for balance. His arm came to support my back as he continued the kiss, and I no longer had to concentrate on not falling over--just felt his lips on mine, my tongue reaching for his. Edward was better at holding Masen and me at the same time than I was at holding myself up.

"You seem happy," I said on an exhale, my palm on his face, as I thumbed lightly over the lips that had just taken my breath away.

"You're here. Why wouldn't I be?" He gave me another quick kiss.

His room was warm. Heat blew down on me from the ceiling vent, and I removed my coat, to better feel the warmth through my clothes.

"Didn't Rosalie come and see you?" I asked, dropping my coat on the bed.

He tilted his head, backing up a few steps. "How did you know that?"

"She didn't make you feel bad?"

"She tried, but I told her to stay out of it. It's in the past. That's what you want, right?"

"You did?" I laughed. "What did she say?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. She started to say something, but then changed her mind, I guess. I'm glad she loves you enough to yell at me about it, though. All of our friends love you more than me, and that's the way it should be."

"Shut up. They do not."

"Yes they do. If I ever hurt you, they'd be out for blood. Jasper leading."

"And if I hurt you? Then what would they do?"

"Laugh."

"No, they would not." I reached out to shove against his chest, but he caught my arm and pulled me close, kissing my head.

"Let's not hurt each other so we never have to find out."

"Alice told me about what happened at school today."

"She told you about the rumors?" His eyes narrowed as his fingers brushed a light touch over my face.

"If rumors were drugs, every kid in Forks would be an addict, the way they peddle that B.S. around."

"Forget about it. It's nothing I haven't been through before."

"Maybe I should take you to school tomorrow. Show everyone that we're still together."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"I do. I'm going. I need to remark my territory."

He laughed. "What about Masen? Nobody will be around to babysit him. Are you going to subject him to the insanity of students at Forks High?"

I paused to stare at Masen, who was drumming Edward's shoulder with his little fist over and over before squishing some of the shirt in his fingers. I wondered why he didn't reach up to snag his daddy's hair. Edward had the kind of hair that enticed pulling. "But I want to do _something_ to show them. If just a few of the people see, especially the right people, then everyone will know."

"Okay, stubborn girl. How about at Thursday night's baseball game? It's just a scrimmage, but everyone will be there."

I cringed and gave an automatic shake of my head.

"Come on. It might be fun. Or… we could have a party here and invite everyone."

"Baseball game," I said, the words out before my brain even had a second to process the thought of another Forks High party.

Masen fussed, reminding Edward that he had something for me. He went to his desk and tossed a book at me that I, of course, dropped.

"Baby signs?" I asked, picking it up.

"It's about teaching baby sign language. My mom got it. She says it's supposed to help Masen communicate before he can talk--cut back on the crying. But you don't cry that much anyway, do you, little guy?" Edward asked, running a finger down Masen's chin, his fussing starting up again, as if to prove Edward wrong.

"I'll try it. Anything to lessen the crying. I can't stand hearing him cry. Even if it's only for a little while."

"Bella?" Edward asked, coming to me, slipping his fingers into the waist of my jeans, and giving a pull toward him. "Do you want to start reading that book while I play the piano?" Lately his lips formed an automatic smile whenever he said the word 'piano'. It was much like when he said my name or Masen's name. The corner of his lips would lift, a small smile playing on his lips. It was natural and involuntary, and I loved it.

"Now? But it's not the middle of the night."

"I have no control over when the piano compels me. I used to ignore it when people were awake, but I don't have to anymore. Because of you."

"What did I do?"

"You came into my life." He bent down to kiss me. "But really, you showed me that I don't have to feel pressured into pursuing it. That I can just enjoy it like reading, or anything else. All my life, every time I played for anyone, they tried to persuade me to follow it. I've never had that ambition, or-or... _drive_ to turn the art of piano into a career--I'm not one to play in front of crowds. It was others, family members, friends, placing those ambitions on me like they were my own. That pressure." His free hand went to his head, fingers in his hair. "I've had to pretend for so long that I had no interest in playing, that it took you and your willingness to listen to me play just for the sake of playing--without expectations--for me to finally get to the place where I can play weightlessly. It feels so fucking good."

"Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad about the piano, but watch your language when you're holding Masen."

"Damn!" His eyes widened and he covered his mouth. "I'm working on it. I promise," he said, his voice muffled by his hand. Then he smiled, taking my fingers with one hand, bouncing Masen in his other arm, attempting to calm baby's growing fusses, and brought us down toward the piano.

Instead of reading, I stood behind Edward, cradling Masen, swaying him in my arms as the music and the movement calmed him. Masen started leaning toward the piano, so I bent over and let him bang on the keys. His hits weren't strong enough to get sound out of the piano every time, but the keys made some noise, and his feet kicked against me as his hands went at it some more, picking up speed and strength.

"Bella," Edward said, "I can't play when you're allowing him do that."

"It's a duet," I said, "and it's making him happy. Look."

"He has his own piano to make him happy."

"That's true!" I laid Masen on his tummy on the floor, then ran up to his room to get his piano. When I came back, Esme had joined Edward.

"I love it when you play," she was saying, as I set the toy piano in front of Masen. "I haven't heard this one, what's it called?"

"Ask Bella."

I listened and watched as his fingers traveled over the keys, but I hadn't the faintest clue what it was. Should I have known? I brought a finger to my lips, listening closer. "I'm sorry, I don't recognize it."

"I mean…" Edward said, pausing the music and turning toward me, "it's yours. You should name it."

"You wrote this? For me?"

"It's for you, and I made it up, but I didn't write it." He laughed. "I don't write music. I only play it."

I hugged him tight from behind, squeezing around his neck. "Thank you, Edward!"

"B-Bella." His voice was strained. "You're choking me."

I loosened my hold. "Sorry. Play it again."

"Well, it's a duet, so you're going to have to bring Masen back over here to bang out his part."

I hit his shoulder. "Just play." His fingers moved over the keys, playing my song as I leaned over him, my arms still hanging loosely around his shoulders, my cheek against his. The melody reminded me of the rain over Forks. It began soft and quiet, then came down harder and faster, only to calm and slow again, but not stopping completely. On another note, it reminded me of our relationship as of late. I turned my face to whisper in Edward's ear. "This is the sexiest thing ever." I meant it, too. If Esme hadn't been standing a few feet behind me, and Masen hadn't been right there on the floor, I would have attacked Edward with my lips. As it was, all I could do was slyly lick his earlobe, thankful for the shield my long hair offered. One corner of his lips twitched into a smile, but his fingers didn't falter over the keys.

Masen's fussing started again, and I knew from the feeling in my breasts that he was hungry. I brought him with me to the sofa, nursing him while Edward played. Esme sat down beside us, lifting the book I had dropped on the cushion earlier, and fingered through it. Masen nursed hungrily, taking gasping breaths every so often, making me giggle at him. "You're so hungry," I said. "Sorry I waited so long." He finally calmed into a steady rhythm, his fingers twisting the ends of my hair. I closed my eyes, letting his touch relax me, hoping that it would not become a sudden yank. He must have been as relaxed as me, because he never did pull.

* * *

**A/N:** Please leave a quick review (long or short, one word or several). :)


	22. Fog

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

* * *

Not Without you

Chapter 22: Fog

Fog hung low and thick, its natural formation dispersing in coils around our ankles with our every step. Maybe it was the brisk air, or the wind, or my own delusions, but I could have sworn I felt the mist through my jeans grabbing at me like hands, cautioning me to leave--warning me to turn around, go back. I had never fit in at school events, and Forks High would absolutely be no different despite Edward at my side, his hand in mine. Even as ominous thoughts of fog haunted me, I knew it was impossible. The fog had formed due to the cold and condensation in the air. It was by no means there for my benefit alone. I knew that--understood the logic. But still, my imagination viewed it differently; the fog had come to warn me, and I was not taking heed. Funny how one can make something as organic as the weather revolve around oneself. Humans are an egocentric species. Or maybe it was just me.

A chain-link fence starting at the far corner of our brick school separated the regular campus from the stadium. The gate, one side wrapped in a heavy metal rusted chain lock, was wide open for all to enter--and all did. Edward had been right. Real game or not, it seemed every student was in attendance. There was no better alternative in February in Forks. As uncomfortable as it made me, I welcomed the stares aimed our way as Edward and I walked through the main gate. My eyes instantly began searching out Jessica and Lauren. The sooner we ran into them, the sooner news of Edward and I arriving together would spread, and the sooner we could leave. I looked at my watch thinking, hoping, we could get home in time to put Masen to bed.

"Are you cold?" Edward asked.

"Are we outside?" I asked.

He laughed, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, drawing me closer. His hand rubbing my arm did nothing to warm me through my thick coat, but I appreciated the effort and melted deeper into his side. Both of my arms encircled his waist as he led me past small groups of huddled social circles toward the bleachers, where we found Emmett and Rosalie, Alice and Jasper… and Kate.

"Hi, Bella," Kate said, her smile reaching her eyes, the turquoise in them enhanced under the brightness of the stadium lights--even from a distance.

"Hi," I said. Those would be the only words we'd exchange that night. I waved at her and then at the rest of our group.

"Good game?" I asked, taking a frosty, hard seat next to Emmett.

"Hell no," he said. "This is Forks High."

The last baseball game I'd attended was one of Phil's back in Arizona. Instead of shivering, I'd been sweating, the sun burning my skin right through every layer of sunblock. My mom had me follow her all the way to the sideline of the outfield, where she'd wave to Phil and have him come over during breaks. I always searched the faces around us, feeling much more like a groupie than the step-daughter of a minor-leaguer.

"Do you think they're warm enough down there?" I asked, clinging to my coat, watching my cloudy breath blend into the night.

"Normally, I would say yes," Emmett said. "The adrenaline would keep the players warm. But in this case, our team is anything but warm. They have no chance of winning, and they've known it from the beginning. They're feeling more humiliated than anything, so they're probably freezing their asses off." He laughed.

"Well if we're going to have to endure this, I'm at least getting nachos or something." I stood up.

"I'll go with you," Alice said, tripping her way over the feet of our friends.

"Watch it!" Rosalie said. "Why the fuck are you wearing heels like that to a game?"

"They're my boots," Alice said, lifting her leg. "They keep my legs warm."

"Right," said Rosalie. "The only reason you're wearing them is because they look good with those skinny jeans."

"Stop picking on me or I'll step on your toes again. Besides, that's not the _only_ reason. They also make me taller so I can kiss Jasper easier." She turned to wink at Jasper.

"You look beautiful," Jasper said with an amused smile.

Edward swept an arm around me. "You're not going anywhere without me." I noticed a strange glance-exchange between Emmett and Jasper, who both stood up and announced that if Edward was going, they were going, too.

"Looks like we're all getting a snack," Rosalie said.

"Why is everyone insisting on going?" I asked Alice on our way to the snack stand.

She leaned to my ear. "Probably because Edward has been in almost three fights in two days."

I stopped and tugged on her arm, pulling her from the rest of our group. "Why doesn't anyone but you tell me about this stuff?"

She shrugged. "Bella, every near-fight has been over you." She poked my chest with her fingernail, but I barely felt it through the bulk of my coat.

"Tell me what's been going on."

"It's the usual Forks talk. Some of the assholes at school have figured out that it doesn't matter what they say about Edward or Kate. The only thing that lights Edward's fuse is when they bring you up. Don't expect Edward to leave you alone for a second, knowing someone might start in on you." I looked over Alice's shoulder, and as sure as I was shivering in my spot, Edward was next to Jasper, his eyes glued on me. "And don't expect Jasper and Emmett to let Edward go anywhere alone, knowing they might have to break up another fight."

"So, Edward wanted to come with us so no one would say anything to me, and Emmett and Jasper wanted to come with us in case anyone did?"

"Exactly."

"Why does high school exist? Seriously, what do we learn that we couldn't just teach ourselves with the right book?" I pointed at myself. "I'm proof of that. Independently-schooled."

At that moment, Lauren pushed her way right between Alice and me in her sprint to the bathroom, further driving my point on the irrelevancy of high school.

"I'll be right back." I decided to follow her to tell her that Edward and I were fine so she could spread it around, and we could all just leave. But when I entered, I heard her sobs bouncing off the stone walls. She was leaning over the sink, gagging, saliva dripping from her lips like my grandma's old Bulldog.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Like you care," she choked out.

I stared at her for a moment. She was right. I didn't really care. In fact, some cold, Lauren-esque part of me, deep inside, wanted to laugh. But I had business to attend to. I turned the thin, wobbly nob of the paper towel dispenser and handed her a rough sheet. "Here."

"Thanks." She turned to me. "I'm surprised you haven't left yet. Aren't you angry at me over Edward?"

Strategically, I had no idea how to answer that. If I pretended to know what she was talking about, maybe she would elaborate, or maybe she would shut down. I shrugged my shoulders in feigned indifference. "I don't worry about Edward. I trust him."

She laughed. Even though she was still crying, she laughed and nodded her head. "Yeah well, you can trust the hell out of him. I thought you broke up."

"No." It was all I could say. I had no clue why she believed I could trust him, and I was too afraid to ask.

"What is wrong with me? Am I suddenly ugly?" She looked at the gray wall in front of her. "Why aren't there any mirrors in here?! It's a bathroom, for fuck's sake." She covered her face with her hands and started wailing all over again.

"Do you need anything?"

"Jess should be outside," she said between gasps. "Can you get her?"

Jessica was standing outside--directly outside--right where she could hear Lauren's cries echoing from the bathroom. And still she stood there, arms folded across her chest, her head tilted to one side.

"Are you aware that Lauren's in there, crying?"

She shrugged. "I saw you with Edward. You forgave him?"

"There was nothing to forgive."

"I thought you knew about Kate. We all saw him leave the party with her. I tried to stop him."

I eyed her, disbelieving that she'd made any such attempt. "Kate gave him a ride home. Haven't you ever heard 'friends don't let friends drive drunk'?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Jessica, every time you get in a car with a guy, do you make out with him? Wait, don't answer that. Bad example. The point is, there's nothing to forgive, and it would be nice if you let word of that get around instead of helping to push assumptions and lies. Also, your friend Lauren is crying in there."

"I heard you the first time. That's all she does. Ever since Paul used her and dropped her, she can't do anything else but cry. Especially when she sees him." She pointed to a group of guys--Mike, Tyler, and Paul--standing on the other side of the snack stand. "It's boring." She looked at her finger nails, frowning and fingering at the chips in her polish, which was clearly more upsetting than her friend's emotional breakdown.

"But Lauren uses everyone anyway," I said. "I'm surprised she cares."

"Yeah. _She_ uses everyone. People don't use her. But she just needs to get over it. I didn't even cry this much when Mike dumped me, and we dated for like a week. Lauren and Paul went out like once. And they didn't even really _go out_. She's a mess. And then after what happened with Edward-"

"What happened with Edward?"

"He didn't tell you?" Her eyes widened, then narrowed. "Lauren kept going on and on about how he would tell you and you two would laugh about it."

"Laugh about what?"

Jessica smiled and stepped closer to me. "She practically told him that he could, you know, _take_ her in the gym locker room anytime he wanted. Do you know what he did?"

"Um... told her, 'No, thank you?'"

"Not exactly. He took her by the hand to just outside the locker room, brought his face right to hers. She thought he was going to kiss her. Then he got this, like, sideways smile on his face and started telling her about all the things he would do to _you_..." she pointed at me, "if he could get _you_ in there." She laughed. "Lauren was so humiliated. I mean, Lauren never blushes, and when I ran into her, she was as red as a cherry. And then this thing with Paul."

My jaw may have been on the ground. I covered my open mouth with my hand. I didn't know whether to laugh with Jessica or let my embarrassment redden my skin as bright as Lauren's must have been. Changing the subject was the only thing I could do. "She asked me to get you, though. Are you going to go in there?"

She let out a deep sigh and an eye roll, followed by an irritated, "I guess so," then she drug her feet toward the sounds of Lauren's moans. She turned. "Do you like my new hair color, or is it too light? I'm thinking of going back to golden brown."

"It's nice," I said, stifling a laugh. "I like it both ways."

My friends were all still in the long line at the snack stand, Edward continuing to face my direction. "We can go," I said, pulling on his hand. "I ran into Jessica and Lauren. They both know now."

"I thought you wanted nachos."

"That was before. Now all I want is Masen. Come on. It's almost his bed time. We can just make it."

He turned to let our friends know we were leaving, when someone tapped my shoulder. Letting go of Edward's arm, I spun around into a big chest, and knew without looking up that the person invading my space, in this plaid flannel shirt, was Paul.

"Hey, Bella." His fingers were sausages in my hair, twisting at the ends. "I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?"

Despite how freezing I'd been the entire evening, my body instantly heated. "Are you serious?" I asked. I glanced over my shoulder at Edward, who had turned toward me just in time to catch me knocking Paul's hand away.

"Back off," Edward said. "Leave her alone." He put an arm around me, guiding me toward the parking lot. We hadn't taken five steps before Paul's gutteral voice continued.

"Why don't you let her answer? I figured after you cheated on her, she might want to get back at you. My bed's open if you're looking for revenge, Bella."

Edward's feet froze in their spot, his arm tightening around my shoulder, and I looked up at him. His anger was growing and I worried about what would happen if he fought with Paul, who was obviously the much bigger of the two.

"You can't deny there's something between us, Bella."

"You don't know what you're talking about." I'd meant to shout it, but the words came out all shaky. I took Edward's hand and tried pulling him along with me, but he was stone, an immobile statue.

"I promise not to get you pregnant," Paul said, loud enough for anyone within two-hundred feet to hear.

The second I stiffened, Edward took a step toward Paul. I grasped his fist, in an effort to hold him next to me.

"Hey!" Jasper yelled, moving from the snack line, followed by Emmett.

Paul didn't budge.

I caught Alice's wide eyes as she hugged Jasper's arm. Next to her, Rosalie reached up to rub Emmett's shoulder. All of us girls, trying unsuccessfully, to calm our guys.

"You don't disrespect her," Edward said, his voice low. "You say whatever you want to me, but you never fucking disrespect Bella!"

"Are you sure about that? Whatever I want? What if I told you about how your Bella flirted with me at Alice's party?" He let his wrist go limp, giving his fingers a dainty wiggle, as if that was how girls flirted.

"I'm not going to fight you in front of her, Paul." Even as the words came out between Edward's teeth, his breathing deepened, and his eyes narrowed.

"Not even if I tell you how she liked it when I felt her ass?" Paul looked at me and laughed.

"Don't listen to him," I said, caressing Edward's fist with my fingertips, trying to loosen it--trying to link our fingers, but it was too tight. It was like he couldn't even feel my hand on his. But I felt the veins in his.

"She didn't try to stop me," Paul said, "until her friend told me she was engaged."

Edward's glare shot to me. "Did he touch you?"

The look on his face stunned me into silence. I had no doubt that once I answered him, my presence would no longer stop him from fighting. I thought about lying, telling him that Paul was making it up.

"Let's talk about this later," I said. "Let's go." I tugged on his arm. "Let's go home."

Edward yanked his arm from me. "Did he fucking touch you, Bella?"

After one nod of my head, Edward threw his fist into Paul's jaw. The sound it made when the punch connected made me cringe. And then there was another one, and another one. I screamed Edward's name.

He had one hand grasping Paul by the shirt and the other one fisted in the air when he turned to me, fury in his eyes. Emmett and Jasper pulled Edward off Paul. Nobody had to hold Paul back.

"Calm down, man," Emmett said, giving Edward's shoulder a pat.

Paul was laughing, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Edward shook Jasper off. "I'm okay." As soon as Jasper released him, Edward came to me, grabbed my hand and pulled me roughly toward the parking lot. I turned back, Alice, Rosalie, and Kate still staring after us, and Paul still standing in front of them with that ugly smirk on his lips.

Edward's pace quickened and I could barely keep up. He was practically dragging me. "Edward!" I said.

His hold loosened and he slowed to a regular walk. "I'm sorry. I just want to get you out of here." He kissed my head. When we got to his car, he brought my hand to his lips, kissing lightly along my knuckles. "Did I pull too hard?"

"No."

His eyes were darting back and forth between mine. "Are you sure? You yelled my name."

"I just… didn't know where you were. You were gone." I put my hand on his chest through his open coat. I could feel his heartbeat, hard and erratic. I let my hand drift up to his shoulder and then to his neck, where I felt his pulse, just as strong. My fingers rubbed against the nape of his neck, trying to calm him.

His eyes were still searching mine. "He pissed me the hell off. He touched you? He had his hands on you?" His own hand raked through his hair, then he held my hips, turning me so that I was pressed up against the car. "And the things he said." Edward brought his face down, his forehead against mine. "I love you, Bella. I didn't cheat on you."

Through all of our discussions regarding the night of Alice's party, this was the first time either one of us had used the term 'cheat,' and it made me flinch.

"I know that, Edward."

His stare, as his face inched back, was intense--green eyes dark and shining under the parking lot lights. "Please know that. Please. After what everyone's been saying at school, and then fucking Paul, I just need to make sure you know that. You're the only one who matters."

"I do. I know it."

"Would you tell me if you were uncertain? If there was any doubt whatsoever?"

"If there was any doubt, I wouldn't be here with you right now."

He stared at me a while longer, and I didn't break our gaze either until his lips came down on mine, hard, and then he kissed my forehead, my eyebrow, my temple, down my cheekbone to my lips again--this time gentler. "I love you so much, Bella. I wouldn't hurt you."

I brought my arms around his neck and hugged him. Behind my closed eyes, I could see the last glimpse I'd had of Paul watching us, smirking, and in that second, I had time to ponder why Paul hadn't fought back. He'd seemed smug, amused. He'd succeeded in making Edward lose his temper, which was exactly what he'd set out to do.

As if Edward could hear my thoughts, his arms tightened their hold on me, but as soon as he spoke, I knew his action had nothing to do with what had been in _my_ mind. "I feel like I'm holding on to you by a string." His hand came up my back and gripped my hair. "Ever since Alice's party, every time we kiss, I'm afraid it could be the last one. I know that's my fault, but I don't like that feeling. Our relationship has never felt this fragile before. It's always felt like steel, like iron."

"You don't have a strand of me, Edward. You have the whole me. There's no last kiss; there can never be. We can be stronger than iron, okay? It's all in your mind."

If possible, he held me even tighter, lifting me from the ground. "I'll try to let it go."

In the car, as the engine warmed up, Edward turned to me. "Coming here was a bad idea. I knew how relentless they all were at school, and that was when it was just me. I should have imagined something like this would happen when it was both of us. I shouldn't have suggested this."

"Look, it's fine. Paul's obviously looking for trouble. But now everyone knows we're still together. If nothing else, we've at least killed those rumors in their tracks. We did what we came to do, so let's just go home."

"Why didn't you tell me about Paul at the party?"

"I tried, but you were-"

"Piss drunk out of my mind." He shook his head. Then he paused, staring hard at the steering wheel before his eyes were on mine again. "You had my face in your hands, you were trying to get through to me, and what did I do? I embarrassed you. I insulted you. I can't apologize enough to you about that night. It will never be enough." He took my hand. "I won't drink that much again. I promise you that, Bella. You can count on that, love." He leaned over, a light touch on my chin guiding my lips to his. "You deserve happiness," he said, kissing me. "I want to make you happy."

"I'm happy, Edward, despite everything that's happened the last few days. I still have you," I brushed a hand down his chest, "and Masen. And Stanford is coming soon." My hand tugged on his shirt at his side, under his coat.

"I'm glad that makes you happy." He let his lips lift into a small, but strained smile, then checked the clock. "I'm sorry. We're too late. Masen will be asleep by now."

My eyes fell. I pictured Masen the way he slept in his crib, bundled in his pajamas, sprawled out, arms above his head. "It's okay. It's just one night, right?"

"Do you want to go somewhere? I want to take you out. The game's not over yet, and we're not expected home for at least another hour. How about dessert? Pie? Would you like some pie?" He gave me a half-smile and touched my cheek.

"I could never say no to you, or pie." I smiled at him--a whole smile. I wanted to lift his spirits.

"Let's go get pie." He put his car in gear.

* * *

Our table at the diner was covered in white plates topped with pie slices. We couldn't decide which pie we wanted, so we ordered six different slices to share. Our booth was a half-circle, and we sat in the middle, as close as we could get, Edward's arm around my waist. My eyes had grown used to the never-ending blink of the lamp hanging over our table. At first the sporadic flashing had driven me crazy while looking at my menu. Now I barely noticed it.

"Try this one," I said, holding my fork to his mouth. "I think it's triple berry, or raspberry. No, it's triple berry."

He took the bite. "This can't be triple berry, this one is." He lifted the middle plate. "And this one's raspberry." He pointed to the plate closest to him. "What is the one you just gave me?"

"Who cares. Whichever berry it is, it's good." I took another bite.

"Come here," he said. "You've got whichever-berry on your…" he licked the side of my lip and then kissed me, his hand drifting up from my waist to my ribcage. I laughed as he continued to peck me all over my mouth.

"Look at you two," our server said, pulling our attention from each other. "I remember how it used to feel to be in love at your age. Let's see," She drummed a finger against her chin. "About fifteen years ago... that was Daniel. No, Brian! If you asked me what became of him, I wouldn't have the slightest clue. He's either some hotshot executive or a bum in an alley. He was always one of those all-or-nothing type guys. You know that type? A real risk-taker." She stared at us with a sigh, her hands on her thick hips, her brown ponytail swaying with the shake of her head. She stood there for so long I was afraid she'd request to join us, until she finally asked if we needed anything else. Edward ordered two hot chocolates.

"With extra whip cream," I called to the back of her bobbing ponytail as she headed for the kitchen. I smiled at Edward, happy that I'd never confuse my feelings for him with anyone else. Edward would be it.

"She's wrong, you know," Edward said.

"About what?"

"She thinks she knows how we feel, but it's impossible. No one has ever felt this way before. Not even my parents. It's impossible. Feelings like ours don't exist."

"So are you saying that we don't exist, or that our feelings aren't real?"

"Don't mind-wrestle me, Bella," he laughed. "What I'm saying is, we're breaking impossible barriers. We're the luckiest human beings in existence. Have some more pie." He held his fork toward me, layered with my favorite whichever-berry.

"Edward," I said. "Lauren... or um, Jessica told me what happened with Lauren."

"Yeah. I figured that when I saw you talking. I hope she gave you the correct version of the story."

"The version she gave me included you blabbing to Lauren about what you would do to me in a locker room."

He gave a quiet, whisper of a laugh and looked down at his lap, seemingly embarrassed.

"Is that true? What did you tell her?"

His eyes met mine again with a spark in them that I recognized. Something that I'd said, or that he'd thought, had turned him on. "Remember when I found a way to kiss you forever?"

"You told her about the forever kisses?"

"Not in so many words." He touched my lips. "Those words are ours. But I think she got the gist of it." He laughed. "You should have seen her face, Bella. She was mortified. She hasn't looked me in the eye since. Are you mad?"

"Not mad. Embarrassed... and intrigued by the thought of a mortified Lauren, but not mad. Who knows what I might have said if I'd been there when she offered herself to you. You know what's strange, though? Earlier tonight, I had an eerie feeling. I felt like the fog was trying to hold me back. Keep me from going to the game."

"The fog? Bella, that was radiation fog--the radiation cooling of the ground's surface, not ghost fog." He laughed.

"What are you talking about?"

"It's physics. The air near the ground was colder than the air above it, and the wind thickened the fog. But that's all it was. Fog isn't some all-seeing force. It's not mystical."

"You seem sure of yourself."

"Of course I am. Your theory is explained away by science. Just like most misconceptions."

"It wasn't a theory. It was a feeling. Anyway, smart boy, explain Jasper, then."

He laughed. "Bella, I said science could explain _most_, not all."

"You got yourself out of that one, didn't you?"

"Nope. You're letting me out." He took my hand from under the table and kissed it. "But if you feel like the fog was trying to tell you something, then I believe you. Too bad it wasn't more forceful so we both could have seen it. Maybe we could have avoided the Paul situation."

"How did you get over what happened at the game so easily?" I asked.

"I'm not over it. I'm fucking pissed at Paul, but I am not going to waste a second of our time sulking. We're here, together. Paul's wherever the fuck he is. Life is as it should be."

"Except Masen's not with us."

"Except Masen's not with us," he sighed, drew me tight against him and kissed my forehead. "You ready? I can ask for the hot chocolates to go."

"Let's watch a movie while we drink them," I said. "We never watch movies together."

His nose nuzzled mine. "We'll watch a movie, drink chocolate, and share a huge bowl of extra-buttered popcorn."

I nodded, then glanced over the table at all the pie. "Let's take the rest of this home, too. No sense in not rotting our teeth all in one night."

He started to get up, but I pulled on his arm until he was seated and looking at me again. "Thank you for taking me out for dessert." I brought his face to mine and kissed him.

"Thank you for agreeing to come with me." He kissed me back. "But this wasn't dessert."

"It wasn't?" I asked, on a breath between kisses.

"No. Dessert will happen later tonight... after the movie... in the form of forever-kisses." We kissed until all the patrons, our booth, and the restaurant itself seemed to disappear.

* * *

**A/N: **Reviews are always appreciated. :)


	23. Evergreen

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 23: Evergreen

"Bella, you have to walk. Do you really care about what other people think?"

In Edward's room, sitting, facing each other on the bed, he was trying to talk me into participating in our graduation ceremony. I'd just announced that I had no intention of walking across that stage after he'd asked how many invitations I needed.

"No, I don't care what they think, but I don't feel like being made a joke of, especially when Masen will be there. I've avoided those people since the baseball game, and it's been nice, actually." The baby monitor on Edward's shelf released Masen's sleepy whimpers as he squirmed, restless in his afternoon nap. We both paused, looked at the cold, plastic monitor, and waited. Silence followed.

"Maybe they've all moved on. Nobody has said anything to me for a while now."

"But I don't even go to school there. What if someone shouts something at me while I'm on stage?"

"I can almost guarantee that won't happen." His hand squeezed my shoulder as if I were a crazy person who needed to be brought back to reality. Then he let it fall down my arm to my fingers. "Everyone's family will be there. Look," he said. "I'll shut up if you seriously don't want to participate for any reason other than what people may or may not say."

"I'm a teenage mother."

"And I'm a teenage father."

"A cute teenage father." I leaned forward to kiss him but he backed up. That was possibly--more than likely--the first time he'd ever dodged one of my kisses.

"I'm not walking, either."

"Edward, don't do this. You're walking. You're graduating with honors. You deserve this."

"And you don't deserve it? You're graduating despite a pregnancy, a baby, and leaving school."

My gaze fell to my hands, restless in my lap. I studied my fingernails, unpolished, bitten. When had I started biting my nails again? Edward lifted my chin, and ran his thumb along my jaw. "Love, don't think about anyone else. Think about yourself. What do you want to do? For you?"

I thought about that. Would I later regret not walking across the stage to be handed a piece of paper tied with ribbon, and turn the tassel on my hat? Was it really that huge of a deal? On the other hand, was it really that huge of a deal if a few people maybe made fun of me? I'd still have my friends supporting me. I'd still have Edward. And maybe… maybe my mom would come. I voiced that last thought out loud.

"I asked you not to think about anyone else but you, Bella."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, nuzzling my nose into his throat. He held me too, resting his cheek against my head. "I'll do it," I said. "I'll walk."

His fingers tangled down through the ends of my hair. "Yes, you will. Now…" he bent his face toward me, "give me your lips."

"No." I backed away.

"No?"

"If you wanted to kiss me, you should have kissed me a minute ago. I don't want to kiss you anymore. The moment is gone."

"Excuse me," he said with a crooked smile as he let go of me. "I didn't realize I was here with Rosalie. I need to get back to Bella now."

"You can't tell the difference between us?"

"I thought I could, but now I'm not so sure."

I ran my fingers over the scruff on his face, then kissed along his jaw and down his neck. "Which one am I now?"

"Bella," he breathed, "definitely Bella." He turned and took my lips with his before I had a chance to get away. And once his lips were on mine and I felt his tongue, my backing away was impossible.

"Wait," he said, but didn't stop kissing. "Wait," he gave my lips a peck. "We have to finish our invitations before this gets out of hand."

I leaned forward to kiss him some more. "Are you sure?"

"No." His hands came around my back, his lips picking up speed and strength on mine, and he leaned against me until we were lying on the bed, facing each other. "How do you do this to me?"

"Shut up and kiss me. We're just kissing." I pulled his face back to mine.

"I can't just kiss you," he said, his voice muffled by my lips. "Not like this." As he kissed me, his hand felt down my waist, my hips, and over my butt, and back up again. "Bella, help me stop," he said as his hand on my back pulled me closer, and he kissed down my neck. "We need to finish the invitations before Masen wakes up."

But I didn't want him to stop. For him, I mustered the little bit of strength I had. "Edward," I said, pushing against his chest, ignoring my own desire, "stop." The weak voice that came out of me may not have been convincing, but the word was enough. He backed away and sat up, his hand in his hair. He was flushed, his eyes wet, and seeing him like that--aroused and unfulfilled--I couldn't resist him anymore. I pulled on him by his shirt. "We can be fast," I said as his lips crashed back into mine. I tugged the button on his jeans free, pushed them down and they were off. Then mine were off, and even though we were in a hurry, we still relished our kisses, savoring each other's lips and skin. And when we finished making love, we lay together, holding each other, breathing hard, and laughing.

"You are out of control," Edward said. "What is wrong with you?"

"Me? What is wrong with you? You started it."

Before we settled on whose fault it was or which of us was the more out of control one, Masen cried at us through the monitor. Still out of breath, we rushed to get our clothes on, going to our baby.

I carried Masen to Edward's room to change his diaper while Edward went to his desk. "So, how many do you need? My mom bought sixty." His satisfied smile hadn't left his lips, and even though he'd tried to sound normal, he sounded quite pleased and smug.

"Three," I said, my own smile unwavering.

"Just three?"

"One for my dad, one for Sue, and one for my mom and Phil. So yeah, three."

He handed me my three. We filled them out sprawled out on top of his now wrinkled bed covers, Masen grabbing at the invitations until we gave him his own to drool on.

"It's not food, Mase," Edward said, tugging the invitation out of Masen's mouth. Edward repeated that action countless times in between filling out his invitations. Since Edward had more than me, I helped with his. He had his mother's and father's colleagues, an aunt and uncle, some young cousins, and his grandfather on his father's side. We ended up with about twelve invitations between us. Edward pulled paper from Masen's mouth again, and he whimpered.

"He's crying because I won't let him eat the paper?" Edward asked.

"I'll nurse him." I showed Masen the sign for milk, making a squeezing motion, that I'd learned from my book, and asked him if he was hungry. He couldn't answer yet, but I'd learned in my reading to be persistent with the signs.

"Is this how small our wedding will be?" Edward asked, holding up the stack of sealed envelopes.

"Hopefully," I said.

He laughed. "I love who you are." His smiling lips met my forehead, his hand on the back of my head, holding me there.

I lifted my face to kiss him. "I love who you are, too."

* * *

On St. Patrick's Day, I dressed Masen all in green, and couldn't help but laugh because he looked like a little leprechaun. He laughed back.

"You look gorgeous in green," I said. And then I looked into his eyes. "Edward! Look at Masen!"

Pulling a shirt over his head, Edward came up behind me. "You sure won't be pinched today, will you?" He tickled Masen's chest.

"No. Look at his eyes; they've turned green." I smiled at Edward.

"Oh yeah, you're right."

"Doesn't that make you happy?"

"I love that it makes you so happy."

"They're beautiful," I whispered, and kissed my son. "I wonder when they turned. I didn't notice until just now, dressing him in green."

"I don't know," Edward said.

"I have to look at you more closely, more often, Masen." I picked him up. "You're changing so much everyday. Wait until your mom sees him," I said to Edward.

"We can't wait for her. We have to get going. Come on, loves." He took Masen from me--who still appeared incredibly tiny in his daddy's arms--and we headed out to the car. It had been a week since we sent out all of our invitations but one. We decided to hand-deliver my dad's, since it had been too long since we'd last seen him.

The odd, mixed scent of vanilla and cinnamon was the first thing that hit me upon entering my dad's house. Next, I saw that my dad wasn't home, nor was Sue, but Seth and Leah were sharing the sofa, watching a movie. Leah glanced at us, then back at the television. Seth came over to greet us.

"Masen's getting so big," he said.

"I know. And his eyes turned green, look." I held Masen out to him as though it would be as fascinating to Seth as it was to me.

"What do you mean?" Seth asked. "I thought they were always green."

I frowned at him, turned Masen back toward me, then looked at Seth again. "They were blue before," I said, a little unsure now.

"Seth's color blind," Leah said with a laugh. "He can't tell the difference between blues and greens."

"Really?" I said, relaxing out of my I'm-a-horrible-mommy-for-not-knowing-my-son's-eye-color panic.

Edward kissed my cheek. "They probably turned gradually, Bella. Don't worry about it, love." I saw Leah make a gagging gesture with a finger shoved into her open mouth when Edward called me love.

"I try to get it right by the shade," Seth said, "but sometimes they're so close, unless it's a really dark blue, I can't get it. Once, I bought these sunglasses I thought were this gray-blue color, but someone said they were purple. Then I kept asking people if they were purple… some said no, others said yes. I couldn't tell who was messing with me, so I exchanged them for black ones."

"Aw. I'm surprised the person who sold them to you didn't tell you," I said.

"He's the one who said they were gray. I think he just wanted the sale." We all laughed, including Leah who said, "They were definitely purple."

As we walked farther into the living room, I noticed that more than just the house's smell was different. A new painting, a still-life of flowers in a vase, hung on the far wall over the sofa, and a sheer red cloth covered the wooden coffee table, topped with half-burned red and cream colored candles on crystal holders.

"Did you put that there?" I asked Leah, pointing to the fabric-covered table.

"Oh yeah. And I brought these over, too." She lifted a floral throw pillow from the couch.

"So your mom did it? You're all here a lot then?"

"Only if you call four days a week a lot." She drew her feet, covered in thick gray socks, up behind her on the couch and rested the pillow on her lap.

I nodded.

"Hey," she said, "if you're uncomfortable with the changes in this room, I suggest you avoid your old bedroom."

"I'm not uncomfortable. Where are they now? I mean my dad and your mom?"

"They went out to lunch," Seth said. "They'll be back soon."

As Leah turned back to the TV, I noticed a shape on her neck, right behind her ear. There was a design of a bird as black as her hair, which was pulled up into a high, messy bun.

"Do you have a tattoo?" I asked, moving closer.

Her jaw dropped as she turned toward me, pulling at her bun. Her hair blanketing down her back and over her arms, covering it up. "No."

"Yes you do," Seth said.

"Is it a bird?" I asked.

"None of your business." Leah said, still running fingers over her stick-straight hair, unbent even after having been tied up in a bun. She had the type of slick hair that probably wouldn't even hold curl with the burn of a curling iron. I almost assured her that she could stop pulling her hair over her shoulder--the tattoo was no longer visible.

Edward sat on my dad's chair, leaning forward on his knees, an amused expression on his face.

"It's a raven," Seth said. Leah launched a pillow at him, which he caught and tucked under his arm.

"Any significance?" I asked, still aiming my questions at Leah, even though I knew Seth would be the one to answer.

"Don't answer her," Leah said to Seth.

"Why not? It's not a secret."

"It's my tattoo. I say who knows and who doesn't."

"Whatever," Seth said. "It's not your story."

"If you tell her, I'm leaving the room."

"No you won't," Seth laughed. "You'll want to make sure I tell it right." Seth sank to the floor, tucking the pillow beneath him, and turned to Edward and me. I moved to sit on the arm of Edward's chair, but he pulled me and Masen onto his lap.

"She got it after our dad died," Seth said. "He used to tell us these stories-"

"Quileute Legends," Leah said.

"Legends," said Seth. "Whenever one of us got in trouble."

"Mostly me," Leah said. "Seth over there never steps a pinky toe out of line."

"Whenever one of us got into trouble," Seth repeated, "we both had to sit through stories about Bayaq, a Raven, this troublemaker whose mischief always backfired. My dad thought it would teach us lessons. Leah never learned hers."

"The stories were boring," she said. "And there were so many of them."

"But you got the tattoo anyway?" I asked her.

She shrugged. "It reminds me of my dad."

"You can't see it though," I said. "It's on the back of your neck."

"No shit," she said. "It would be hard for me if I had to look at it all the time. This way, when I want to be reminded of him, I just position a hand-mirror so I can see the back of my head in the bathroom mirror." She held up her hand like she was holding an invisible mirror just then. "My dad used to talk a lot. He loved to talk. When I look at it, I can hear his voice. I hear his stories now more than I did when he was alive." Her eyes glistened with what I thought were tears, but in a blink her eyes--darker than the richest chocolate--were dry again. All of them, Sue, Leah, and Seth, shared the same eye color--so dark you could hardly decipher the pupil from the iris. Their eyes carried an air of mystery. Although, Seth's held less mystique the way he seemed to share every thought the second it entered his mind.

"Do you have a tattoo, also?" Edward asked Seth.

"No. I'm not allowed until I turn eighteen."

"But Leah won't be eighteen for another year," Edward said.

"I didn't ask permission," she said, with a scoff , as if we should have known. And we probably should have.

"Oh," I said, raising my eyebrows.

"Don't judge me," she said. "It's not like you ask permission for everything you do. If you did, you wouldn't have had sex with him," she pointed at Edward, "and you wouldn't have that green baby right there."

I held Masen tighter, kissing his head. He squished some of the skin on my arm, then scratched me, reminding me that I needed to trim his fingernails. "Please…" I said, closing my eyes, taking a deep breath in, smelling my baby-powdered five-month old, "never say stuff like that in front of him."

Edward's lips came to my temple, then brushed through my hair. Leah was staring at us.

"I'm sorry," she said. "That was insensitive of me."

I squinted at her. Had she just called herself insensitive, as if she'd surprised herself with it? That wasn't the first time she'd been insensitive--or the tenth.

"I mean to your baby. I'd never hurt Masen's feelings on purpose. I won't say that again."

"Thank you," Edward said.

And then, as if she'd met her daily sensitivity quota, she said, "Why did you torture him though, dressing him up like an elf? Do you really believe those leprechaun stories? You afraid he's going to get pinched?"

I wanted to ask her if she really believed her father's "Raven" stories, but I thought better of it. No need to insult Seth just for the sake of putting Leah in her place. I decided sarcasm was the way to go. "Yes. Yes, I do. I wouldn't want my baby to get pinched by some tiny, invisible creature. They freak me out."

Both Edward and Seth laughed, and I saw Leah crack a slight smile, but stopped herself before it reached across her lips completely. Masen clapped his hands. I turned to Edward. "He likes when we laugh."

Edward's lips caught mine as soon as I faced him. "I know," he said, kissing me. "Give him to me. It's my turn." He reached for Masen and I handed him over.

Hearing the front door creak open, I shot up off Edward's lap. We were engaged, with a baby, sharing a room, but still, by instinct, I didn't want to be caught sitting on his lap. I laughed at myself as I hugged my dad and Sue hello.

"This is a surprise," my dad said.

"We wanted to give you…" I turned to Edward, now right behind me with Masen, handing me the envelope. I took it and offered it to my dad. "This. It's a graduation invite. You already know about it, but I wanted you to be officially invited."

"Thanks." He moved to the couch, took a seat, and held his hand out for Sue to join him. When she did, Leah stood up and silently left the room. Her feet didn't even make a sound as she headed up the stairs.

"Seth," Sue said, "would you turn that off?" She motioned to the television. "It's just noise right now." Her son did as he was told, then took Leah's old seat on the couch.

"Show them what Masen can do," I said to Edward.

He set Masen on the floor, holding his shoulders steady for a moment, and as Edward let go, Masen sat on his own for a few seconds, before toppling over. Edward's quick hands caught Masen, rescuing his head from meeting the ground.

"Well, I'll be," my dad said. "Already, huh?"

"I've been practicing with him all week," I said, pulling some of Masen's toys out of my backpack and setting them around him, so he could choose whichever one he wanted. "You should have seen him the first time he did it. I clapped for him, then he clapped and fell over. It was too funny. We couldn't stop laughing."

"You and Edward couldn't stop laughing?" Sue asked.

"No. Masen and I. Edward wasn't there; he was working." I took Edward's hand, feeling bad that he had to miss milestones like that. "I wish we had a video camera."

I brought Edward back to my dad's chair, and pushed on his shoulder in a gesture for him to sit down. I took a seat on the floor, my arm resting on his legs. I still felt uneasy about sitting on his lap in front of my dad, even though that was where I most wanted to be. Edward's hand came to my arm, his fingers brushing back and forth along my wrist.

"Bella," my dad said. "I spoke to your mother earlier. She received the invitation you sent her." He raised his envelope, giving it a shake. I nodded, bracing myself for what might come next.

"She and Phil are coming."

"What?" My eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you sure? Maybe she said they _aren't_ coming and you misheard her."

"Why do you seem so shocked?" he asked. "It's your high school graduation."

"But she didn't even come for…" I pointed to Masen.

"Well, she's coming for your graduation. There is no doubt about it."

"She's going to meet Masen," I said turning to Edward, who gave me a small smile. "She'll meet Masen, and then she'll realize that there was never any other choice."

My dad cleared his throat.

"I'll get us some drinks," Sue said, heading for the kitchen.

"Hey Edward," Seth said. "Will you come outside for a sec? I want to ask you something."

"Sure."

Edward grabbed his coat off the back of the chair, then followed Seth out the door, glancing over at me before closing it behind him.

"Dad," I whispered. "You're letting her redecorate?"

"She didn't redecorate, Bella. She just brought a few things over. I want her to feel comfortable."

"But flowers? You have to live here more than she does."

"I don't mind the flowers."

"Since when?"

He glanced in the direction of the kitchen, and I covered my mouth. "You love her."

His eyes flew to mine, but he didn't answer.

"You are so in love with her." I looked toward the stairs where I'd last seen Leah ascending. "And Leah knows it, too."

"Let's not discuss Leah," he said. "She's not happy about my relationship with her mom." Then he leaned toward me. "Bella, there's something we need to talk about."

"Are you engaged?"

He scoffed. "No. It's not about me. It's about your mother."

"What about her?"

"Just… don't get over-excited. I mean about her accepting Masen. I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I can't let you get your expectations too high. She's still talking about your future. How you... How can I put this?" He tugged on his mustache. "She's still disappointed."

"Yeah, but she hasn't met Masen yet." I looked over at my son, lying on his stomach, shaking then gumming a rattle. "Look at him. He's like magic when you just look at him."

"I agree, sweetheart, but please don't get your hopes up. Your mother may not see it as we do."

I nodded. "When has she?" I went to Masen, and lay down on the floor next to him, my hand on his back as I watched him explore his toys. "But how couldn't she?" Tears pooled in my eyes. "He's perfection." I kissed his face, and that's when I smelled it. "He's perfection who needs a diaper change, bad." I laughed, wiped at the bottoms of my eyes, where a few tears had met my lashes, sniffled, then fished a diaper out of the bag. "Ew." I scrunched my nose at Masen, and he smiled.

My dad came over and kissed my head, not seeming to mind being in such close proximity to my baby's stench.

* * *

"What did you and Seth talk about?" I asked Edward in the car on the way home. At just after five, the sky was already darkening. I fidgeted with the heater knob to warm the car while he answered. As soon as I felt the warmth, I held my cold, pink hands right over the vent.

"He has a crush on some girl at school. He wanted advice." Edward laughed. "Then I asked him what he knew about Paul. He said that Paul was expelled because he harassed the girls. And you'll never believe this. He also said that Paul's been trying to get into this sort of gang over in La Push."

"A gang? In La Push?" I shook my head.

"Hey. I'm just repeating what I was told. There's an initiation process in order to be accepted into the gang, to prove your loyalty. One is to pick a fight, get your ass kicked without throwing a single punch. It's supposed to show what you're willing to take for another member."

I looked over at him, my eyes widening. "So, Paul set you up, and you fell into his trap, then. Does that mean he's in the gang?" I couldn't help but laugh at the word gang, associating it with La Push.

"Seth wasn't sure since I didn't technically kick his ass because you, Emmett, and Jasper stopped me. But now I know what he's up to. Man, once he saw all the shit I was getting over Alice's party, he knew he could get to me. It won't work again." Even as he made the denial, his hands gripped the steering wheel hard enough to whiten his knuckles. I was doubtful, believing Paul still might find the right button to push. I brought a hand to cover Edward's--tried to relax him. His fingers lifted, intertwining with mine.

He turned right onto the windy hill leading to his house, and flakes started hitting the windshield. I shook my head at the persistence of snow well into March. I just wanted a real Spring for once.

"But a gang? Here? This place is so weird. What are they going to do? Knock over the diner and it's five patrons? Hold the place up for pie?"

"Well you know how coveted their pie is," he smiled. "No. It's not that kind of gang. The way Seth explained it is they become like brothers for life. Help each other physically, financially, whatever, and without question. It's all about loyalty and rising up in the world."

"Why don't they just call each other friends, then? Why a gang?"

"It's different. Friends can walk away, drift apart. This way they're pledged to each other. But I don't know. I'm not a part of it--never would be."

I thought about what he said: friends drifting apart. Is that what would happen between Alice and me during her year off with Jasper? Is there a way to foresee a fading friendship? Stop it from happening? How could we keep our ties tightly bound and knotted from a distance?

I remembered Alice having been so nervous to tell Rosalie about her plans that she'd had both me and Jasper join her. She used Jasper to gauge Rosalie's emotions. Turned out she didn't need Jasper. Rosalie, whose actions continued to remain unpredictable, had hugged Alice, happy for her--proud. And then she'd hugged Jasper, threatening his life if he didn't take good care of Alice.

Edward shifted gears, and I took his arm, embracing it. "Everything's changing again," I said, looking out into the darkness. Even the massive fir trees, though they seemed so constant in color, continued to grow. Eventually they'd turn brown, lose needles, and wither.

He rubbed my leg. "That's life, love. Not us, though. We're the same as always."

"We're better," I said.

* * *

**A/N**: Please review. I love them all! :)

In case you're wondering if we're nearing the end, we're not. We will see these two through their first year at Stanford. They have more story to tell.


	24. Worth

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

**The lovely myimm0rtal has set up a _Not Without You_**** discussion thread at Twillighted(dot)net **

**www(dot)twilighted(dot)net / forum / viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=7726&p=829227#p829227 **

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Not Without You

Chapter 24: Worth

After St. Patrick's day, I'd tried to spend as much time as possible with Alice--an attempt to keep us solid, tight, double-knotted. I'd bring Masen with me to her house after school, or I'd demand she come to the Cullens'. I even went shopping with her when she wanted to--let her pick out my graduation dress. These days, we spent more time with each other than with our boyfriends, which was why when the doorbell surprised me one Sunday afternoon in April, I was sure it was Alice.

"Stay here," I said to Masen, who was sitting on the living room floor, hitting his toy piano. I answered the door, but instead of peering down at the petite, short-haired brunette I'd expected, I looked up at a tall, long-haired blonde.

"Kate," I said, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.

"Hi. Maybe I should have called first. I don't know. This whole thing feels weird. Should I go?"

"What feels weird?"

"I just--I wanted to, um, talk to you. Get to know you." She tucked hair behind her ear, and bit the side of her lip.

"Why?" The few times we'd been around each other with the group, we'd barely spoken. I was convinced she couldn't stand me after everything that happened following Alice's birthday party.

"You're my cousin's best friend. I thought we could at least be amicable. Do you want me to go?" She pointed behind her, in the direction of her car, without turning away from me.

"No. Come on in," I said, opening the door wider and stepping aside for her to enter. As she passed me, and I closed the door, a breeze swept by and I smelled a familiar scent. I closed my eyes, reminded of my mom gardening in Phoenix, on her hands and knees in the hard, dry dirt.

"Lavender?" I said.

"It's my body lotion," Kate said. "It's supposed to be relaxing, calming." She gave a short laugh. "I was a little nervous thinking of coming here."

"It is relaxing. My mom would cut huge bunches of it from her garden and fill vases in our kitchen. It filled the room so strongly that every time I entered, I couldn't help but take deep breath in. I loved that smell. Did it work for you? Did it calm you?"

She shook her head. "Maybe it has to be the real thing. Not some artificial scent from a bottle."

She moved farther into the living room and spotted Masen, who was being oddly quiet. "May I?" she asked, and I nodded, allowing her to pick him up for the first time. Neither of us had forgotten the last time we'd been alone together; I hadn't wanted her to touch him,.

"You're so handsome," she said to him, lifting him up. "Who does he look like?" She studied his face and then mine.

"Edward. Most people say Edward."

"I don't know," Kate said. "I'm so bad with that sort of thing. I can always see a familiarity in babies, but I can never really place who they look like."

"So, how do you like Forks so far?" I asked, because we seemed to be getting good at this small talk thing.

"Honestly, it's better than where I'm from. We lived in this tiny town in Alaska. It was very secluded and had a population of about twelve." She laughed. "No, there were more than that, but it felt like less than twelve most days. The outskirts of it was vast, but in town, you felt caged in. There was nowhere else to go unless you wanted to wander forest."

"I never thought I'd say something like this, but Forks does seem better than that." I took Masen from her because he was squirming in her arms. "Can I get you anything?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine. I do miss it back home, though, but only because of my old possessions. We sold most of them, though I gave some away. It seems very adventurous to leave home with nothing, arrive somewhere new and start over. I mean, I left everything behind except pictures and the clothes I wore over. It was a good idea at the time. I don't recommend it. It's weird, the things I miss. I had these fingerless gloves, they were knitted for me by my grandma, and chewed on by one of our dogs. They were nearly useless, and I miss them." She laughed. "We left our dog, too, though. We gave him to a family there. I miss him more than the mittens, of course. Sorry. I'm talking too much. I do that when I get nervous." Her fingers played together as she took a seat on the couch. We shared a much too long awkward silence before I broke it.

"Kate. You don't have to be nervous around me. I'm not mad at you. In fact, I think I owe you an apology."

"No, you don't."

"I think I do. You took care of Edward that night, and he and I had been fighting earlier, and then after, well that was hell, and you sort of got caught in the middle of it. I can't imagine what you've had to endure at school all this time."

"Everyone hates me there," she said.

"Of course they do. That's to be expected. But the question is, do they ignore you or harass you?"

"They've finally moved on to ignore, but why do you say it's expected?"

"Because you're too beautiful to be friends with. Most every girl at Forks High wants her friends to be less attractive than her, or in at the very least, the possibility of convincing herself of that. But when someone is as obviously beautiful as you or Rosalie, there's no way to lie about it, even for someone as delusional as Lauren Mallory. You're better off avoiding them. You wouldn't want to be their friends anyway. Believe me."

"Thanks for the advice." She brought some hair over her shoulder and twirled the ends of it over her fingers. "Bella, can I ask how things are between you and Edward?"

"We're fine." I nodded and sat down next to her. "We've been fine."

"And you're still engaged?"

"Yes." I frowned at her. "Why?"

"That night I brought him home from Alice's, amidst all the talk about how perfect you are, he said something. And maybe it's none of my business, but he said that you don't want to marry him."

"What?" I stood up, the blood rushing to my head so quickly, I almost fell over. I put Masen down before I dropped him.

"Yeah. I asked him how long you two have been engaged, and he said since Junior Prom night. I asked when you planned on getting married, and he said that it was up to you. Then he was quiet for so long, I thought he'd passed out before he said that he can't blame you for not wanting to marry him. He said that you deserve the absolute best and that deep down, you must know it."

"Why would he say that?" I asked, pacing the room. "Why would he even think that?" I stopped and looked at Kate. "Do you think he really thought that, or was it just drunken rambling?"

"I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. Maybe I should keep my big mouth shut."

"No. This is good. I should know this. But I have to talk to Edward right now."

"Where is he?"

I pointed to the ceiling. "Upstairs studying."

"If you want, I could watch Masen for you." She slid off the sofa and onto the floor with Masen, and shook a rattle at him.

"Thank you." I ran up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time and stumbling more than once before getting to the top. I stood outside Edward's closed door for a second, thinking. I couldn't just burst in and throw this at him. I'd approach it calmly. I inched the door open, and though I hadn't thought I made a sound, he turned around.

"Hey, beautiful."

"Edward, can you take a break?" I sat on the edge of the bed and he came to join me.

"Sure." He kissed my cheek. "What's up?"

I took his hand and looked him in the eye. "Do you know I want to marry you?"

"You do?" His eyes brightened. They glimmered.

"I mean, you know that I want to marry you eventually, right?"

"You've said that."

"But you know I mean it, don't you?"

"Of course I do." He caressed my cheek with his thumb. "What is this about?"

"It's just... I'm only waiting until we're standing on our own feet. Able to support ourselves."

"I know."

"Good. I just had to make sure you understood that."

"Okay, strange girl." He kissed me. "Where's Masen?"

"Downstairs with Kate."

"Kate's here?"

I shrugged. "She wants to be my friend."

"Why wouldn't she?" He smiled.

I told him about what Kate had said to me, and then asked him if there was any truth to it.

"I wasn't making any sense that night."

"But did you mean it?"

His eyes met mine. "I know that you want to marry me, but your reason for waiting, I just don't see it. I'm honoring your wishes and I'm never going to pressure you, but the way I see it is we're devoted to each other, we live together, we plan on spending the rest of our lives together. I just don't see the point in waiting. We'll work at supporting each other together, married or not. I don't understand why we can't be married through it all."

I stared at him for a moment. Was there any way to explain this without making him think that I was only making excuses to postpone it? Did my argument even make sense to me anymore?

"But Bella, I don't have to understand it. If it means something to you, then that's enough for me."

"I don't even know what I think at this point. When you put it like that, your way makes more sense and mine makes less."

"Either way, there's no rush. Whenever you decide you're ready, I'm here, ready too."

"Just like that? You're not scared at all?"

"Bella," he took my shoulders, caressing the tops with his thumbs, "the future scares me. The possibility that I may not give you what you need or want scares the shit out of me. But those feelings are there whether or not we're married. It's not the marriage that I fear. Just the future. Not knowing what's ahead. But why does marrying me scare you? _That_ worries me more than anything."

Somehow this conversation had taken a turn I wasn't prepared for. I went to the window. The snow was gone and had been for weeks now. Today, the sun was bright and strong, muted only by passing clouds. I'd spent so much of the winter indoors, I suddenly found myself wishing we were outside playing with Masen, not in Edward's room analyzing my fears. I turned my back on the sun. "So, that must have been what was bothering you when you were drunk. You think I'm afraid to marry you."

"Aren't you?"

"I'm not afraid to marry you, Edward. I'm afraid of a marriage that won't work out. My mom and dad's didn't. Look at Jasper's parents, and now Rosalie's parents are in trouble. So many marriages collapse. I don't want ours to be one of them."

"Bella," he sort of laughed when he said my name, and that made me narrow my eyes at him. "You worry so much about generalizations. We're not everybody else. We're not _anybody_ else. And if a relationship doesn't work out, it's not because they did or didn't get married, it's because they have problems they can't fix, or don't want to work at. Do you honestly believe that if your parents never got married, they'd still be together?"

"No. Why do you make me seem so irrational?"

"You're not irrational at all. You just have fears where I don't. But I respect them. I respect everything about you. Come back here."

He opened his arms for me, calling me forward with a motion of his hands, and I walked into them. He pulled me to his lap and kissed my temple. "We're different people with different experiences. We can't possibly agree on everything. But just like I've said before, you tell me when you're ready. Whenever you're ready."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, wanting to put an end to this conversation. "Let's go outside and play with Masen before the sun goes away. We can study together later, after he goes to sleep."

"That's a great idea," he said, and we went down to get Masen, and invite Kate to join us.

* * *

The snow may have surrendered itself to Spring, but after that one particularly sunny day in April, the rain came down on us relentlessly. It rained for an entire week straight in May. And it wasn't a light drizzle; it was downright pouring, the kind of downpour that caused dangerous road conditions, threatened mudslides and floods, and kept us indoors. I had the worst case of cabin fever, and may have made a fool of myself yelling out the window more than once, _What good is it to live in such a beautiful place if you can't ever go out and enjoy it_?! I couldn't even appreciate the fresh scent of after-rain air because the rain would not let up long enough to experience it.

Finally, the end of May brought me relief. The sun shone bright, piercing through the clouds like long-bladed swords. It was real sun, rays that stung the eyes, and lasted into early June, sticking around for our outdoor graduation ceremony like an invited guest.

My mother and Phil arrived at the Cullens' house the day before graduation. Edward, though he tried, couldn't get out of work that day. Their office was short-staffed even with him there. Esme and Carlisle answered the door as I stood behind them, holding Masen and feeling like a child. A child who was about to be reprimanded, just waiting for it. I caught my mother's eye as she hugged Esme.

"Bella," she said, releasing Esme and stepping toward me. She had tears in her eyes, and I wanted so badly to hug her. I was still that little girl, and I wanted to be in my mommy's arms. Her lanky arms were at her side, though. They didn't open for me. "This is Masen," she said.

I nodded and held him out to her. _Don't reject him_, I willed. She didn't reject him. She took him from me, said hello, and kissed his face.

"He's beautiful," she said, and my entire body relaxed, even the muscles in my fingers and eyelids.

"Hi, Bella," Phil said with a smile. For some reason, I had no trouble hugging him.

"Phil! I'm glad you came."

He rubbed my back. "I wouldn't miss your graduation for the World Series," he said, and we both laughed, knowing that wasn't quite the truth.

Carlisle offered everyone seats in the living room while Esme went to the kitchen for drinks and snacks. "I wish I could stay and visit, but unfortunately I have some work to finish up." He said he'd be down in time for dinner, then went upstairs to his office.

My mom was bouncing Masen on her knee, making him laugh, which wasn't hard to do. She was teary. "Bella, he has your eyes."

"His eyes are green, mom."

"Yeah, but the shape is yours. I remember these round eyes looking up at me eighteen years ago. Green or brown, they're the same eyes. He's so much like you were, too. He never stops smiling."

"He doesn't have a reason not to smile. He gets never-ending attention. I think we're all spoiling him."

"You can't spoil a baby," she said, then caught my eye. "You can spoil a child, but not a baby."

Esme returned with a tray of drinks, asking about their flight, and as my mom answered, Phil came to my side, leaning down to my ear. "Can we talk privately for a minute?"

I led him toward the back sliding door, but didn't miss the glance he exchanged with my mom.

"How's ball?" I asked once he closed the door. There was a breeze in the air, blowing clouds past the sun--none of them thick enough or pausing long enough to turn the sky gray.

"I didn't come out here to talk about ball."

"So, you have an agenda."

"Bella, you're becoming a beautiful woman."

"We're here to talk about my looks, then?"

He gave a frustrated sigh. "The truth is, you've hurt your mother."

I looked up at him, resigning to the fact that we were going to have this conversation. "I know. She's hurt me, too."

"I don't think you're aware, though, just how deeply you've hurt her. She can barely talk about you without crying. She can't get over everything you've given up to have this baby. Including her."

"This baby? I thank God that Masen is here, and I won't talk about the past or the options that were once discussed, or that I almost didn't have, anymore. If you want to talk about it, you can talk to someone else."

"All right." He held up his hands before they dove into his pockets. "But why don't you pick up the phone once in a while? She's a different person without you as a constant in her life."

Was he serious? "Phil, I've tried calling. She's not interested in talking to me."

"Do you really believe that? Deep down, do you believe that?"

"When she blows me off and tells me she doesn't have time for me, yes, I really believe it. I'm not going to put myself through that. If she misses me, she can call me. I've never deflected her calls."

He sighed, gazing out at the forest. He looked older--lines had formed around his eyes and lips. He wasn't more than ten years older than me, but somehow, he almost looked my dad's age. His aged appearance made me wonder just how much the situation between my mom and me had affected their relationship. He squinted as his gaze drifted up to the tops of the trees, then he brought his eyes to me. "She's talked to me a lot about you over this past year. She told me about your plan for next year. You're delaying college? Do you think that's a good idea?"

"The decision has been made."

"That doesn't make it a smart one."

I looked into his gray eyes. He'd never spoken to me like this before. In fact, in the past, he often took my side in disagreements with my mom.

"If I'd postponed college, I wouldn't have had the sports opportunity that I had."

"This isn't about you," I said. "It has nothing to do with you. I'm going to college. Having my baby changed _when_ I'm going, but I _am_ going."

"Statistics show that students who decide to take time off between high school and college typically never go."

He really had talked to my mom about this. It was like he was reciting words for her. "I'm not a statistic, Phil." That seemed to be my never-ending argument--not only with the world, but with myself. Was saying it repeatedly enough to convince us all?

"You're not? What are you doing for yourself as a teen mother? Following your boyfriend to California to take care of his baby while he attends school?"

"That's not what I'm..." My voice cracked and I bit my lip to keep control of myself. To keep from screaming at him. I folded my arms tightly across my chest, as if the tighter my arms were against me, the more effect I'd have of blocking his words from finding their way to my heart. I glared up at him.

"You have so much more potential than that, Bella. You use words like 'deflected,' and even when you were sixteen, you used words that I had to look up in the dictionary when we were through talking. Why are you wasting yourself?"

I shook my head. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just kept shaking my head. Maybe I could shake away what he'd said. We could start over--talk about baseball. I'd use simple words.

"Phil…" I looked down at my feet. They were small compared to Phil's. _I_ was small compared to him, and shrinking still.

"You know, you could go to college. I could help you. You're not stuck. The world has a lot more to offer you than just Edward. You don't have to go with him."

"I _want_ to go with Edward," I said through my teeth, head still down.

"Think about it, Bella. What if you and Edward don't work out?"

"We are committed to each other. We are working out."

"It's not all in your control. He could decide to leave you. Then where will you be? What will you do? What will you have to offer your baby with nothing of your own and no education? You should stop living your life like you don't matter."

I felt my anger so strongly that it brought tears to my eyes. I had to leave or attack Phil, literally, with my fists, my feet, even my teeth. I rushed through the kitchen, the living room, past my mom, Masen, and Esme seated in the living room, and up to Edward's room. I checked the clock on the nightstand. It would be hours before Edward returned from work. My temper was seething under my skin. It wanted to eat its way out of me. It itched. I paced the room--Phil's words festering inside me, up my throat, choking me. I gagged on them--coughed them up. Without really thinking about it, I went to Carlisle's study. Knowing he was in there, I didn't even knock. His head shot up at me when I threw the door open and slammed it behind me.

"Carlisle!"

"What's the matter, Bella?" He stood up.

I took deep breaths through my nose. "Carlisle," I said again, because it was all I could say. He wasn't my fiancé, he wasn't my dad, but I needed someone right then.

"What is it, Bella? Did something happen between you and Edward?"

"No. It's… it's…" I looked up at him, coming closer to me, concern in his amber eyes. "Is that what I'm doing? Tell me the truth. Am I following Edward? I mean, I matter, right?" A few tears traveled down my face.

"Of course you matter. What is this about? I want to help you, but I'm confused."

I had to get control of myself, but the harder I tried, the further control moved from my grasp. I squeezed my eyes shut and reached for it.

"Here," Carlisle said, his hand on my elbow, guiding me to a chair in front of his desk. "Have a seat. Put your head between your legs. Take a few deep breaths."

I tried that and it calmed me some. My brain started to work better anyway, the thoughts slowing a bit. Carlisle squatted in front of me, putting his hand on either side of my chair, blocking me in it seemed, though I knew that wasn't his intention. "Can you tell me what happened? Start from the beginning."

I told him what Phil had said to me, the guilt trip about avoiding my mother, and how he'd made me question my role in Edward's world.

"Bella, there is no 'Edward's world,' and there is no 'Bella's world'. You two are a team. You decided that first when you fell in love, second when you decided to keep your baby, and third when you became engaged. You are not here as a spectator or just to push Edward along in his endeavors. As much as Edward matters to you, that is how much you matter to him. Can you imagine that, Bella? Try."

I closed my eyes and pictured Edward's face. All the times he'd proclaimed his love to me, I replayed them over in my mind, nodding all the while. "You're right. I know that. You're right."

"Believe me. Esme and I have been through what you're going through right now. _I've_ been through it. I understand it isn't easy. Bella, look at me."

I opened my eyes.

"Imagine how I felt when Esme agreed to work while I attended medical school. My wife has been paying my bills for nine years now. But it won't always be this way. Very soon, I'll be making more money than we need. It will all pay off for us, just as whatever you and Edward sacrifice for each other will pay off. Do you understand?"

I nodded.

"What Phil did was wrong. He was trying to get you to perhaps understand your mother's perspective, but he went about it horribly. Over the past year, Phil has witnessed what your mother has been through--her pain. He hasn't witnessed you, though. He hasn't been here to see _your _pain, or your growth. His vision is skewed." He paused, looking at me. He seemed to be examining me. I wondered if I should say something, but nothing came to my lips. "This is your home, Bella. It has been since the first day you moved in over a year ago. You won't be made uncomfortable in your own home. If you want me to ask Phil to leave, just say the word and it's done. I can be very amicable about it. There won't be any… drama. I promise. He doesn't even have to know the decision was yours."

I couldn't help but hug him. He hugged back. "Now I know why Edward is the way he is. Thank you." I pulled back, slouching in the chair. "No, you don't have to ask Phil to leave. I'll deal with it. I don't know why I let what he said get to me. It was just someone else, you know? Someone else's perception of me, and all I was, was… worthless."

"You are anything but worthless. I'm sure Edward can come up with a few words to describe you that are the exact opposite of worthless. Am I right?" He smiled a smile as infectious as Edward's, so I returned it--even if mine was smaller, weaker.

"Yes, you're right. I'm sorry I interrupted you."

"No need for an apology. You, Esme, and Edward, even little Masen, are welcome in my office any time."

I asked Carlisle if I could be excused from eating dinner with the family. We would have a big dinner party tomorrow after graduation, and that was plenty family time for me.

Esme brought Masen and a plate of food up to me. She didn't say anything, just gave me a warm smile and a hug. I assumed she knew what had happened.

While everyone else ate downstairs, I took bites of my dinner in between playing with Masen in his room. I sang with him, nursed him, changed him, readied him for bed, and kissed him. "Don't you ever allow anyone to make you feel worthless," I whispered to him before laying him in his crib. I went back to Edward's room, falling asleep just after 7:00, right on top of the covers, in all my clothes.

"Bella," someone whispered through a tunnel. Lips on my face. "Bella?" Fingers brushed my hair around my ear, and I opened my eyes to see Edward's staring back at me. "Are you all right? My dad told me about Phil." He kissed my cheek, letting his lips linger.

I reached for him, scooting myself over to make room for him.

"What can I do for you, love?" He hugged me, and I positioned my chin between his shoulder and his neck.

I hugged him tighter.

"What can I do?"

"Tell me you want me," I said.

"I've never wanted anything more."

"Tell me I'm something."

"You're everything. There is nothing in this world without you." He kissed my cheek and then my forehead. He shook his head. "Bella, what did Phil do to you? You need reassurance from me? You know how I feel about you."

My hand drifted up his chest, and I held onto his collar. His fingers caressed down my face.

"How can he look at you--look at this face, and say something he knows will hurt you? I don't understand how anyone can do something like that. Whatever he did, let me erase it. What can I do to erase it?"

"Just be you," I said. "You're perfect."

He smiled. "That's my line." He gave my lips slow, soft, tender kisses. I lay there and let him lead the kisses, just feeling his lips on mine, reveling in the pleasure pulsating through me from my lips down to my toes, warming me everywhere. My hand moved from his collar to hold his neck, my fingers in his hair.

"Bella," he said, his voice quiet and deep. "I want you to know that you're not following me. If, for any reason, you decided not to go with me to California, I wouldn't go either. I go where you go. We talked about this the night of our engagement. We decided we would go to California together if the opportunity became available. We made that decision because we can't be apart. We don't work apart."

I nodded. "I know. Today, what happened, that was momentary weakness. I let Phil break me down. I won't let it happen again."

"If it does happen again, I'll be here for you."

"Doesn't anyone understand that having a baby and trying to do what's right is hard enough without other people shoving their ideals down your throat?"

"I understand that."

"It's impossible to please everyone, and I'm tired of trying. It's exhausting."

"The only person you have to please is yourself." He continued his slow kisses on my lips--so much love in the simplest kiss. I held his face and brought him closer, deepening the kiss for both of us. Our breathing sped and his lips moved all over my face and down my throat. I arched my neck for him and he pushed himself on top of me, lifting my thigh around his hip. I felt his arousal press against me through our clothes, and I suddenly needed all our clothes off that second. I unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders, then he removed my shirt, kissing my chest as he removed my bra, too. Our pants were next to go, and then our underwear.

His face came to mine. "What do you want? I'll do anything you want," he said on heavy breaths. I swear I almost had an orgasm right then.

"Kiss me forever," I whispered.

"My favorite," he smiled, beginning at my ear. The tip of his tongue drifted slowly down my neck to my chest, and he raised my arms above my head as his lips made their way to my breast. "Edward," I gasped and squirmed beneath him as his tongue tortured my breast with its teasing.

His fingers intertwined with mine over my head as his lips traveled across my chest to my other breast. I bent one of my legs and arched my back, unable to be still. This was already becoming too much for me. I squeezed his hands.

"Bella," he whispered. "I don't know if I'm going to last throughout your whole fucking amazing body." His lips traveled down my stomach, his fingers letting go of mine, brushing down my arms to cup both breasts as he kissed me. I took a gasping breath in. "I'll try, love," he whispered, his warm breath on my skin. "I'll try." Down he went toward my hip, kissing around the outside of it and across to the inside of my thigh. Then across my center with a slow lick, bringing a whimper from me. Then he was kissing my other thigh. I moaned, then he did too, as his lips traveled down to my knee, my calf, around my ankle, my foot, to my toe. "Even your toes are perfect."

I started to turn over, but he held me down. "Not yet," he said. "I still need to do your other leg." His lips were light along my leg, moving up the inside. I involuntarily bent my knee again, and his kisses moved faster and harder up my leg to my knee and down my thigh. He kissed along my pelvic bone and up my waist to my ribs. He gave a lick, then hovered over me. "Bella?"

I opened my eyes I hadn't even realized were closed.

"I'll finish the forever kisses after--I promise. I just…" he entered me, "can't help it," he barely gasped out as he moved against me.

"Whatever you want," I said, and he moaned.

"Shh," he said with a laugh, slowing his pace. "You're sexy enough without saying stuff like that. I need to last longer than this. This is embarrassing."

"Just go," I said. "I don't care. I'm ready, too." I wrapped my hands around his waist and pushed on his back, getting him closer to me.

"You are?"

I nodded, and he kissed my neck as he gave me the speed and rhythm I wanted. "I don't know… what I would do… without you." He groaned, then continued. "If you don't want to go to California… we'll go… anywhere. I don't care. Canada if… you want... As long as you're… there…" he groaned again, "with me. Oh god, Bella."

"We're going to California," I breathed. "You're going to… Stanford."

"Bella," he said, as I said, "Edward," and we both let ourselves go.

When you reach your euphoric peak with the person you love, during a near-emotional-meltdown, there is almost nothing comparable to the feeling of releasing all that pressure and replacing it with absolute pleasure. Neither of us were quiet; we couldn't be. My only hope was that everyone in the house was out of hearing distance. Although, in that moment, that was the last thing on my mind. I didn't think of that until later, when the silence came.

Without even taking a moment to catch his breath, he pulled out of me, startling me with his quick exit, and said, "Turn over." He helped me roll over. I melted into the bed.

"You don't have to," I said, hearing him pant, knowing he was tired.

"I want to." He kissed across my shoulder blades. "I'm keeping my promise."

I shivered as his lips traveled down my spine.

"I'm not stopping until I've kissed every last inch of your body."

Inevitably, after Edward kissed every inch of my body, we made love again before passing out wrapped in each other.

I awoke before morning, Edward next to me on his back, his face turned away toward the windows, one arm tucked up under his pillow, the other over his chest. I moved his arm off his body and watched the slow, even rise and fall of his chest. I sat up for a better view. My hand came to rest over his heart, rising with his every breath, feeling his heartbeat. He blinked his eyes open, a hand wrapping my wrist.

"What are you doing?" his groggy, grainy voice asked.

"Watching you breathe."

"Why?"

"It's peaceful. I like it."

"Come here." He pulled me on top of him so that we were chest to chest. "Breathe with me." His fingers gave me the kind of light touch up and down my arm that brought goose bumps and made my spine tingle. "I love you," he said, his words a mere breath in my ear. "Sleep, love."

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you readers! Please review. :)


	25. Commencement

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

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**A/N: Thank you readers and reviewers. I'm touched by the amount of you who are happy and/or excited to see this story continue. :)**

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Not Without You

Chapter 25: Commencement

Three golden-capped heads, one in front of the other, blocked my view of Edward during our graduation ceremony. Seated in alphabetical order, I was that far behind him, right beside Jessica. Masen was many rows back on the lap of either Esme or my mother. My father was no doubt aiming the video camera--his graduation gift to me--at the stage, ready to film.

He'd brought the camera over that morning as we prepared to leave for the ceremony. As rushed as we were, I had to stop in shock as he presented it from behind his back, as if he was a magician dazzling me with his mysterious illusions.

"You requested this," he had said, his smile big, and his mustache smiling with him. When I'd wished for a video camera months ago at his house, it had been more of a mumbled musing, but I never imagined I'd actually get one. "It's all charged up and ready to go."

I thanked him with a hug full of jumps and enthusiastic neck squeezes, delighted by the thought of finally catching Masen's milestones on video.

And now, seated on metal Forks High stadium bleachers, under the often elusive--but always welcome--Forks sun, my father was behind me with my new camera, waiting to preserve one of_ my_ milestones. The crowd silenced itself with a few throat-clearings and nervous coughs as our principal stepped across the makeshift stage, that had been set up down on the field. At first the microphone at the podium didn't work. Then it screeched, and he tapped a thick sound at us, testing it, now working. Three words later, just after Principal Randall's welcome, Masen's cries drifted toward me like ghostly moaning on the wind, slowly and evenly rising in volume. I could hear nothing else. The thin hairs on my arms stood on end. Edward looked back at me, around the heads between us, and I glanced back at Masen. Since he wasn't the only baby there, nobody really knew it was our baby crying, but it broke my heart to hear it. Edward, sensing that, stood up in his cap and gown, right in the middle of Principle Randall's speech, and walked to the end of my row, motioning with a quick finger for me to come with him. Ignoring my heated, reddening face, I stood in front of everyone, meeting Edward and walking up the steps with him toward our baby. He held my shaky hand.

"It's okay," he whispered. "Everyone's eyes are back on the stage."

I didn't check to confirm it, my eyes focusing straight ahead. Esme brought Masen over to us, his cries growing louder and more demanding the closer he got to me, as if he sensed me or smelled me and figured I was doing nothing but ignoring him.

"He's hungry," I whispered. Not only were both of the poor little guy's hands desperately forming his best version of the sign for milk, but the swelling and sensation in my breasts confirmed his hunger. "I fed him before we left, but there wasn't time for him to finish. I am _not_ going to nurse him in front of everyone." I wished I could be one of those women who just didn't care and could whip it out and breastfeed anywhere, but I couldn't be that way, least of all during our high school graduation ceremony.

Edward followed me up the aisle to the outside of the stadium, where we found a bench directly across from the closed up snack stand--the scene where the trouble with Paul had begun at the only baseball game I'd attended. I lifted my gown, then had to unzip the side of my non-nursing-friendly dress to free my breast, Masen squirming and crying all the while. I didn't have a blanket to cover myself for privacy, but without a word or having to be asked, Edward removed his gold graduation gown, draping it over me. This way I could be covered up, but still pull the gown back from my shoulder just enough to peer down at Masen whenever I wanted to check on him. I gave Edward an embarrassed but grateful smile.

"You look so handsome," I said, staring up at him dressed in his suit. The only thing better than Edward in a suit was Edward in a T-shirt that hugged him as if it couldn't get enough of him… or Edward in nothing at all. If my blush had disappeared after the ambush of undesired attention during the ceremony, it certainly returned with that thought.

"And you look radiant feeding our baby in your cap and gown." He smiled, joining me on the bench. He must have noticed the new flush on my cheeks, and misinterpreted it, because he touched my face with the back of his hand and said, "Bella, don't feel weird about this. It's completely natural. Please tell me you're still going to walk. Because if you don't walk, I don't walk."

"I'll walk," I said. "Even if I have to carry Masen across the stage with me."

"You won't have to do that. We'll take turns holding him while the other one walks."

"Edward, I don't know what it is, but despite the embarrassment, there's something special about your baby demanding your attention during one of the most important moments of your life."

"I know what it is," he said. "You want to share your accomplishments with the ones you love, and who do you love more than Masen?"

I nodded. "I'm so glad he's here with us. And after people say things like what Phil said to me yesterday, it makes me _that_ much more grateful for him." I lowered my voice to a whisper. "How can anyone? Phil or my mother, or anyone, even consider a life without Masen?"

Edward leaned down and kissed the corner of my eye. He must have tasted my stagnant tear. "You don't have to think about that, Bella. He's here and that is never going to change."

After a short five minutes of feeding, Masen pulled away. "You're done already? All that crying for that little bit? Of course," I said, putting my clothes back together, and handing Edward back his gown. Masen had that unfocused, drunk look on his face he always got when he was full and satisfied. I kissed his woozy face and let him fall asleep against my polyester shoulder.

Since the population of Forks High obviously wasn't huge, the crowd was situated in one small area at the center of the stadium. Edward and I walked down the steps at the far end to avoid disrupting the ceremony again. We headed toward the gate where we could easily meet the line of students as they made their way on to the field and the stage. That was where we heard Emmett begin his valedictory address.

"Fellow Forks High graduates," he paused, looking out across the field as if in thought, then faced his audience again. "You don't need someone like me standing before you, speaking of your future, or preaching words of inspiration at you. Why would you? Because I have a higher grade point average? Because I can argue any one of you into a corner? Including the teachers," he added, drawing laughs from the crowd. "None of that proves I harbor the keys to success or that I even know myself any better than any one of you knows yourself. But…" he waved a finger in the air "...I am well-aware that we all possess the ability to recognize who we have the potential to be, who we _strive_ to be. The advice I'm offering you is simple. Search deep inside yourself for your own pep-talk, because I guarantee it will be better, and take you farther, than anything I can say to you as I stand up here, a false representation of something as astronomical as intellect. Something which is impossible to measure. Allow me to leave you with a quote from philosopher Lao-Tzu: 'Knowing others is intelligence; Knowing _yourself_ is true wisdom. Mastering others is strength. Mastering _yourself_ is true power'..."

"Leave it to Emmett," Edward whispered, "to deliver a speech without _actually_ delivering a speech. Listen. He's tearing himself down to raise everyone else up; he's manipulating their minds and they're all going to applaud him. There may even be some whistles."

"You don't think he means what he's saying?"

"He might mean some of it, but if he were giving us what's really in his mind, it would be, 'I'm smarter than you,' like some four-year-old."

We heard Emmett thank some teachers, thank the student body, and then ask the student body to thank each other, since it was all of us, as a whole, who educated each other and not merely the classes we attended, or the tests we studied for. And then, just as Edward had suggested, the end of his speech was followed by applause and whistles.

Emmett exited the stage on our side, moving through the open gate and up the stadium steps. When he saw us, his eyes widened. "What are you two doing over here?"

"Masen," we both said.

He nodded with a smile, glancing at little baby sleeping on my shoulder. He gave Masen's head a soft touch.

"Bella," Emmett said, deep but quiet, "originally, I wanted to include you in my speech, but knowing you, I didn't think you would appreciate the attention, so I'm just going to tell you what I need to tell you." He moved his hand from Masen's head to my shoulder, giving a squeeze. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been delivering that address today. That day I lost my mind over Rosalie, it was you who slapped sense into me, who brought me back to school so I could complete my midterms. Just… thank you, B. Every time I think of what may have happened if I'd skipped out on those mid-terms, sabotaging everything I've worked my ass off for… I'm incredibly thankful that you didn't let me."

"Emmett," I said, "it's nothing anyone else wouldn't have done in the same situation."

"Stop it, Bella. You're an amazing person; you have a quality that many, if not most people, lack. Accept that. That's what I ask. In return for the favor you have given me, I ask that you accept who you are, and stop boxing yourself in to who you _think_ you are."

I handed sleeping Masen to Edward so I could hug Emmett. I stood on my tiptoes to reach around his neck. "Thank you," I said.

"Don't fucking thank me, B. Didn't you hear a word I said?"

I pulled back from him. "What do you want me to say?"

"When I tell you what an amazing person you are, you say, _I know_."

"I can't do that," I said.

"Sure you can. It's simple. You open your mouth and form the sound for 'I', then you bring your tongue to the roof of your mouth and form an 'O' with your lips. I… know... Try it."

"I know," I said with a small, unconvinced smile, my eyes on his chest instead of his face.

"There you go!"

The students' processional music started, and Emmett said he had to get back to his seat. Edward reached out to shake his hand, congratulating him and thanking him. His was a thank you that Emmett accepted.

After Edward fell in line with his group and accepted his diploma, he had to walk across the bottom of the stadium to get back to me, and once he was there, Masen in his arms, I had time for a quick, "Congratulations," and a kiss, before racing to catch up to my spot right behind Jessica.

"Where have you been?" she whisper-yelled as we headed up the stage steps, waiting at the top for our name to be called.

"I have a baby with strange needs," I whispered back.

"You're forgiven," she said, patting the top of my hat just before Principal Randall called her name. I looked off-stage right toward the gate at Edward, who was smiling, and helping Masen blow kisses with his hand. At the sound of my name, my heart sped and I walked across, peering up at the bleachers for my mom and dad. They wore proud smiles, my mother wiping her eyes, my father holding up the camera.

"Congratulations, Isabella," Principle Randall said, handing me my temporary diploma. Naturally, the authentic ones would be mailed to us later.

I nodded and shook his hand.

Due to the dinner party Esme was preparing, we didn't have to stay long after the ceremony. Aside from my search for her on stage, I avoided eye contact with my mother. Still, I noticed her in her cream-colored dress heading toward the parking lot with Phil. I hadn't spoken to either of them since my confrontation with her husband, and all I knew was that they'd been told I hadn't been feeling well, and wanted to rest alone last night. Phil must have known it was a lie--he wasn't _that_ dense.

My dad and Sue were the ones who gave me hugs of congratulations, followed by Seth and even Leah. We agreed we'd see each other later and headed for our temporary separate destinations.

Edward took care of Masen while I helped Esme ready the house for the party. The men had brought in two leaves for the kitchen table, and set up two extra tables in the living room, the sofa pushed aside against the stair-wall. Esme and I covered the tables in white linens and topped them with her and Carlisle's wedding china, which I was extremely careful not to break, chip, or drop. Guests began to arive at 6:00, and with all the people there, it wasn't hard to avoid my mom. From a distance, I saw her chatting with Rosalie's mother as I chatted with Rosalie--or listened to Rosalie chat.

"Aren't you relieved to finally be out of that cap and gown?" she asked. "I was actually getting hot under all that fabric."

Since we didn't sit down to eat until after 7:00, Masen was already down for the night. Edward and I put him to bed together, then shared the kitchen table with Edward's parents, my family, Sue, Leah, and Seth. Our friends and extended family shared the two tables in the living room. The little kids and Edward's Grandfather--by choice--sat together.

Everyone had brought a dish, so there was way too much food. The house echoed loud with chatter, as Edward and I focused quietly on each other, taking smiling bites of our dinner and selfish long glances at one another, causing our smiles to widen. It didn't matter that we'd been living together for over a year or that we were often fatigued by a baby. It was silent flirting, and we were good at it. He hooked his foot around my leg under the table.

Throughout the graduation ceremony, and all of the commotion leading up to and following it--meeting Edward's grandfather, aunts, uncles, and cousins; attempting to fit in a moment's conversation with each of my friends; juggling the needs of Masen--I'd forgotten the extent of my anger with Phil. That was, until, I heard his voice politely ask me to pass him the salt.

I picked up the cut-glass crystal shaker and threw it at him. He was quick to catch it. Eyes around the table leapt to me, my offensive hand instantly finding my lap. Edward rubbed my back. "You okay?" he asked in my ear.

"Bella." Phil cleared his throat. "Maybe we should talk."

I laughed and waved a finger at him as though he was a naughty kid. "I don't think so. You are not cornering me again. You tricked me once already. It's not happening again."

"What?" my mother said. Apparently no one had shared with her what went on between Phil and me. Or she was playing dumb. It really didn't matter to me at that point. Edward took my hand in both of his under the table, rubbing my fingers. I mustered what I could of a smile to let him know I was okay. He smiled back.

"I just want to apologize," Phil said.

"Then go ahead," I said. "Right here. I'm not going anywhere alone with you."

"What's going on here?" my dad asked.

"I don't think this is the place to talk about it," I said.

"Then why did you throw the salt at Phil?" my mom asked, frowning at me.

"Why did he _ask_ me for it?"

"Bella," she said. "Is this what you call mature? Is this you convincing me that you're an adult?"

"Renee," my dad said, and Phil shot a glance at him, as if to warn him not to chastise his wife. I glared at Phil for silently threatening my dad. Sue's attention was aimed on her plate, though she wasn't eating, while my mom's eyes remained fixed on me.

"Don't you think you should talk to Phil with respect? You're being quite juvenile toward him."

"Oh fuck," I said under my breath, pulling my hand from Edward's and standing up. "Here we go again."

"Renee, Phil, Bella?" Carlisle said. "Would you like to talk privately? You may go to my office if that's what you want, Bella."

I didn't take my eyes off my mom. "I don't know what I want. Do I, mom? Why don't you tell me what I want since you seem to know." I walked around the table to my mother, Edward following. I looked down at her. "If you don't know what happened between Phil and me yesterday, it's not hard to guess. Think about whatever you told him to talk to me about, or what ideas you put into his head."

"Your mom didn't put me up to anything," Phil said. "Bella, please, let's not blow this out of proportion. There are other people here to consider."

I glanced around the table, my eyes meeting my dad's, Carlisle's, Esme's...

"Excuse me, Phil?" Edward said, offering his hand. "I don't think we've been officially introduced." They shook hands. "With all due respect, I suggest we keep this conversation between Bella and her mom. You may not have seen what you did to Bella last night, but I did. It won't be repeated."

I saw Carlisle smile at his son, as my mom asked if she was the only one in the dark here.

"Mom," I said, trying to keep my voice quiet. The poor souls at our table had no chance at a peaceful dinner, but that didn't mean the rest of the guests in the living room needed to be a part of this disturbance. "Yesterday, Phil told me a few things that I'm assuming you probably would have liked to tell me. I'm not going to pretend to either of you that my life is easy. I'm not going to pretend that every once in a while I don't wish that I could be a regular teenager. But I'm not one. I've accepted that. I know how to be an adult. I know how to be mature, but you won't let me. You're always trying to control me. Let me make my own decisions. My feelings for Edward aren't going to change, and his feelings for me aren't going to change either." I reached back for Edward's hand, and he gave it to me with a squeeze and a rub of his thumb--quiet confirmation of my words. "You used to trust me, mom. You used to believe in me."

"That was before you gave me a reason… not to." Her eyes shifted away from me. She seemed uncertain, and I thought maybe I'd chiseled a dent in her rigid mindset.

"You still don't have a reason not to. Just because my decisions are different from what you want them to be doesn't make them wrong. Can't you just please be supportive? I _need_ your support, mom. Support me."

Her blue eyes darted back and forth from me to Edward.

"Please?" I said, then held my breath. I leaned against Edward, who was right there to hold me, his arms around me. I knew that her answer held our entire relationship, past and future. It held my every childhood memory; it held our moments of shopping together--her dragging me into clothing stores, my dragging her into book stores; it held my memories of us sneaking into hotels just to swim in their pools during the hottest days in Phoenix; it held my easy acceptance of her marriage to Phil, and her reluctance to let me go live with my dad to free her in that new marriage. Her answer held our future as well, her regard for Masen, the possibility and plausibility of us rebuilding our relationship. If she said no, our relationship would blacken, and all the things in the past wouldn't matter because they weren't now and they weren't the future. If she said no, my legs would not hold me up. The answer she was about to give me was so powerful that I could feel my knees quivering already, and when I spoke again, my voice quivered, too. "Please, mom?"

She stood up, taller than me, peering down. "Bella. You're my daughter, my only child." Her hand was a fist over her heart. "I won't blindly agree with you if I don't feel something is right for you. It's not in me to do that, nor do I think it's right. I will always give you my opinion, be it wanted or not. But… I will _try_ to be supportive." There were tears in her eyes and I didn't know what they meant. Were they present because she was giving up her fight, were they there for finally accepting me as an adult capable of success and responsibilities, or did they represent what I'd hoped for most from her--pride in her daughter? My lip trembled.

"We'll both try," she said, and 'try' was something. It was so much more than what we had before. She reached for me, finally giving me the first hug since just before she found out I was pregnant, and I needed it. I held her tight and she held me just as tight, her thin arms wrapping me, squeezing me. Neither of us apologized for anything. We just embraced. Maybe things between us would never be as strong as they once were, but we would work on rebuilding what we had brick by brick, layer by layer, even pebble by pebble. Hope had finally entered the vacancy between my mother and me--it was nearly unrecognizable after being forgotten for so long, but hope was there, and its presence was felt.

Edward took my fingers, and though I thought he was going to lead me back to our seats, he led me past the table, to the left of the kitchen, and into the utility room where he closed the door and turned to me, both of my hands in his. He stared into my eyes for a moment and I gazed back.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi." I smiled.

"There's what I was looking for." He kissed me. "I had to make sure it was genuine." He kissed me again. "You got through to her."

I nodded.

"You know what Emmett said today was true. You're amazing."

"I know," I said, just as Emmett would have wanted me to.

"Good." He kissed me again, resting his lips on mine, still and soft, after the kiss ended. "If you're okay, we can go back now," he said against my lips, his eyes closed.

"Wait." I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. "Thank you, Edward."

His hand came to my head as he returned the hug, and kissed my neck.

"Whatever you're thanking me for, you're welcome."

We returned to our seats, where Leah looked over at me. "Well," she said. "It's nice to see the dysfunction coming from someone other than me for once." Her timing couldn't have been better. Our family around the table laughed as their tension was released.

"Funny," I said. "That's what I thought about you at Christmas. It's your turn next."

"Bella," Phil said, wiping his mouth with his napkin, tossing a glance at Edward and then back at me. "Your mom and I only want what's best for you. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes," I said. "But sometimes… most of the time, what you two want for me and what I want for me are different. You both have to accept that and let me grow in my own decisions."

"Fair enough," said Phil, with a single nod. "I wasn't aware of how out of line I was yesterday until you left me outside, and then more-so with what Edward said a few minutes ago. I apologize. But you don't have reason to fear being alone with me."

"And you don't have reason to fear my future with Edward, my fiancé." I turned to kiss Edward, my back on Phil, hopefully ending that conversation. Carlisle helped by raising his glass in a congratulatory toast.

After dinner, Edward and I helped Esme with the dishes. My mom kept insisting on helping too, even though Esme kept insisting she go and enjoy the party.

Edward's grandfather stopped me from the clearing of his plate with a, "Young lady?" He had one of those deep, scratchy voices that seemed to come with someone who smoked too many cigars. He wore the woody scent of a cigar, too. I recognized the smell as one of the coveted variety that Phil used to bring home and brag about, asking me to smell it until my mom would tell him to get that thing away from her daughter. Edward's grandfather smelled so strongly of it, as though he himself had been wrapped, packaged, and illegally shipped from Cuba.

He'd brought green olives to the party, plucked from his olive grove, and prepared and jarred by him. Many of his olives now sloshed around in guests' cocktails, including the one he held now. He told jokes that were hard to follow, with punch lines undecipherable from the rest of the story. You'd stare and wait for him to continue until it dawned on you that the joke was over, and you'd forced a laugh. Of course, Edward and his family were all used to this so they laughed right away. At first, I wasn't sure if it was just me who was missing the joke, until the same thing had happened to both Emmett and his father.

Grandfather Cullen pulled me aside, and I was afraid he'd tell me another awkward joke until he brought up his grandson.

"You know he's a smart one, that Edward," he said.

"I know."

"He's going to really be something," he said.

I nodded.

"You agree?"

"Of course."

"But he's a _fool_."

"Excuse me?" I had to have heard that wrong.

"He made the same foolish mistake his father made. How about you?" he asked. "Are you going to let your little son repeat history a third time?"

"I-I hope not," I said.

"It takes more than a wish."

I looked around the living room for Edward and caught his eye almost immediately as he came from the kitchen.

"Nevertheless," Grandfather Cullen said, "he's got the intelligence to go far. He's smarter than his father."

I found it hard to believe that very many people in the world were smarter than Carlisle.

"Grandfather," Edward said, throwing an arm around my waist. "You are occupying all of my beautiful fiancée's time. I need her back now."

His grandfather nodded sternly, then cracked a smile. "Congratulations for… well, all of it." He gestured in a circle with his cocktail-filled hand, his drink sloshing around his own olive and nearly up and over the edges of his glass. "Oh, I have something for you." He left, slow and hunched over, to get whatever it was he had, and Edward and I waited.

Edward mouthed, "Sorry," to me. I shook my head to let him know it was nothing. And it really hadn't been. I'd been through worse in my life. Honestly, I'd been through worse that very evening.

His grandfather returned with two gifts, unwrapped. "Your grandmother always did the wrapping." He looked at me. "She was so very meticulous about pressing the creases around the box straight, tight and free of wrinkles." He'd slowly enunciated each syllable in the word _meticulous_, as if to exhibit just how careful his wife had been. "She made an art out of gift wrapping..."

I smiled at the memory he'd shared with me, struck by the idiosyncrasies one remembers of a loved one once he or she is gone. The littlest traits, hardly impressionable in life, made such an impression after death. Those minuscule habits barely noticed before, that were perhaps missed and wished to be seen again. I thought of the chewed up knitted mittens Kate had told me she'd left behind in Alaska and missed.

In that moment, as the three of us huddled together by the pushed-aside sofa, I felt the hugeness of life. Emmett had called intelligence immeasurable in his valedictory speech, but what on earth would he call even one person's life? Taking into account everything about that person, and everyone whose being he or she had touched, in every fraction of a way--infinite, maybe? Even for a mortal.

"Thank you, Grandfather," Edward said, looking at his two hardbound books--one oversized study of American History and a Ronald Reagan Biography.

"They're both first editions. I made sure of it so you'd read them."

"I don't only read first editions," Edward said with a laugh.

"Yes, but this guarantees they'll be read, doesn't it?" Grandfather Cullen turned to me. "If he sold his collection," he brought a finger to his nose, "he'd be able to buy a house."

"No way," Edward said.

"A car then."

"Maybe an old, used car," Edward said, laughing again and giving his grandfather an appreciative embrace.

"Never trade your books for a car. The car will die; the books will not," he said as he returned his grandson's hug.

When guests began to leave the party, Edward, with a hand on my back, guided me to the stairs.

"Come on," he whispered. "Everyone's in our room."

Emmett had snuck a few bottles of wine up and was filling glasses. "Chardonnay?" he asked as we entered, as if this was his personal cocktail lounge and not Edward's bedroom. Edward shook his head and I wrapped my arms around his waist. His arms came over my shoulders to my back, locking me against him as he kissed me.

"Graduating is tiring," I said.

"It sure is."

"Are you two ever not touching?" Rosalie asked. "Sometimes it's hard to look at you--like you might start tearing each other's clothes off in front of everyone."

I turned to face her, but Edward didn't let go of me; he just loosened up, his hands clasped around my waist now.

"Rosalie," I said. "I love your ability to say whatever is on your mind the moment it presents itself."

"I think it's beautiful, what they have," Kate said. "Everyone should experience that."

"Of course you do," said Rosalie. "You and Bella are like kindred spirits."

I looked at Kate. I couldn't see the similarities in our personalities that Rosalie so often pointed out, but maybe it was just that I didn't know her well enough yet. In that second I also recognized that, as ridiculous as I knew it was, I still wasn't quite sure if I trusted her.

"You know," Kate said, "on my way over tonight, I noticed nearly every car we passed contained a couple in the front seat. It made me question the nature of coupling as humans. I'm not talking about love. Just monogamy. One person for the rest of your life. Is that natural, or is it something that happened to us as humans, something that's expected of us, therefore we expect it of ourselves and look to accomplish it?"

Emmett set the wine down on Edward's desk and opened his mouth. "I think-" he stopped, and all of us not only saw but felt the daggers that Rosalie was staring into him, her eyes relentless. "I think..." he sighed and rubbed a hand against his forehead. I'd never seen him this distraught over a question before. It made me snicker a little. I knew whatever he wanted to say, he couldn't because of Rosalie, and it was driving him mad. Kate's question was exactly his kind of question, and he couldn't take it where he wanted to take it. "It's natural," he said, nodding. "It's the evolution of society that has changed the lot of us over time to accept or even want multiple partners. But it's in our nature to pair off like fucking cockroaches." He took a long swig of his wine, and Rosalie smiled at him.

He put an arm around her. "You're welcome," he said, then kissed her.

"Cockroaches are monogamous?" Jasper asked.

"Only certain species," Emmett said. "They'll find a mate, raise a family and often live in the same piece of wood for the rest of their lives."

"Imagine a cockroach being more faithful than most humans," Alice said, laughing.

"That's disgusting," Rosalie said. "Let's get off the subject of cockroaches' sex lives."

"I have the perfect idea," Alice said. "Let's play a game." She grabbed Rosalie's hand, and then Jasper's. "Come on, make a circle."

"We're not in preschool," Rosalie said, but she allowed Alice to guide her to our circle anyway, all of us seated on the floor at the base of Edward's bed.

"Now everyone, beginning with Bella, has to name one thing they will miss about high school."

"That's easy," I said. "Alice and Jasper."

"She said name _one_ thing," Emmett said, raising a finger, in case I wasn't sure how to count to one.

"I heard her," I said. "Alice and Jasper are _one_ couple."

"A couple is two," Emmett said, raising another finger.

"Fine," I said, looking across at Jasper. "You know I love you, and everything you've done for me, Jasper, but Alice is my girl." I reached out for her and she came to my arms. "You are what I'm going to miss most about high school."

"Who can blame you?" Jasper said.

"Your turn, Rosalie," Alice said, squeezing in between Edward and me.

"Hey!" Edward said. "Alice, you may be Bella's girl, but _she's_ my girl. Move to the other side."

"You move. I'm comfortable."Edward scooted over to my other side, forcing Rosalie to make room.

"Now that you've moved," Alice said, "it's your turn, Edward."

"Okay," said Edward. "High school, high school. Um… can I choose something about Forks in general, or does it have to specifically be high school?"

"Didn't you listen to the rules? _High school_," Alice said.

"Fuck. There's nothing. I'm not going to miss a damn thing."

"Would you just pick something so we can get this game over with?" Rosalie asked.

"All right, all right. I'll take Bella's castoff. I'll miss Jasper."

"Way to man up," Emmett said.

"Who else is going to kick my ass if I mess up with Bella?" Edward asked.

"You know I can kick your ass to Italy," Emmett said.

"My turn's over," said Edward. "Go, Rose."

"I'll miss confusing everyone in English Lit. I'll do it at Berkeley, but I don't think it will be as easy. I'll have to actually _think_ there."

"You did all of that in our literature class without thinking?" I asked her.

"Uh, yeah. Why, did you think?"

"Yes." I looked down and blushed.

"That's because Bella puts thought behind her words," Alice said. "She doesn't just spout random crap to confuse people."

"And that's what I'll miss," said Rosalie. "Spouting out random crap to confuse people in English Lit. I know it's your game, Alice, but you never said I needed your approval for my choice."

"I approve of your answer," Emmett said.

"I believe it's you turn now," Rosalie said, "and I already know what you're going to say."

"What?" Emmett asked.

"Mind-wrestling. We all saw you nearly have a stroke trying to hold yourself back from going at it with Kate." Rosalie started laughing hard, nearly doubling over. She may have had endless complaints about this game, but she appeared to be enjoying it the most. The sight of her hysterics made us all join in, except Emmett.

"Do you think I'm giving up mind-wrestling just because I'm leaving high school?" Emmett said. "You're partially correct, though. More specifically, I'll miss mind-wrestling Mike Newton. There is no one more amusing to make squirm than him."

"Kate. It's your turn," Alice said.

"I haven't been here long enough to miss anything. You can skip me."

"Good try," Rosalie said. "You're here, so answer."

"All right…" her eyes drifted toward the ceiling, and she blew air up out of her mouth, ruffling through her long bangs. "I guess I'll miss the smallness of it. College scares me in its monstrosity. So many people from so many places, and not to mention, if you want your master's or doctorate, there's almost no end in sight." She shuddered.

"Jasper?" Alice asked.

"Classrooms," he said, his answer coming faster than anyone else's. "Alice and I aren't going for a year, and I'm going to miss class."

"I'll miss the social aspect of school," Alice said.

"What social aspect?" I asked. "The kids at Forks High?"

"Yes, actually. You all may be stuck-up hermits, but I have friends there."

"Okay," I said, still astonished that the main thing I would never miss about Forks High was the one thing Alice would miss most.

"I guess we're done," Emmett said.

"I guess so," Alice said, and they all dispersed from the circle like cockroaches meeting sunlight--Emmett going to the desk to pour more wine.

"We're not done," I said, turning Edward's face to mine before he stood up.

"We're not?"

"Nope. What were you going to say if Alice would have allowed you to choose anything?"

"I would have said the piano," Edward said, his voice quiet so that only I could hear, and his small smile making its automatic appearance. I stared at him. Out of every answer that every one of us had given, this one made me the saddest. I brushed my fingers over his lips. He kissed them. "It's okay," he said. "I'll have the two most important people in my life with me as I attend the only school I really want to go to. I have no complaints."

I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I'll tell you something you once told me. You can be happy with what you have, and miss what you're leaving behind at the same time. It's okay to complain about it."

"Perfection," he said, squeezing me around my waist.

"It came from you," I said.

"No. It came from you, and at just the right time."

* * *

**Review please. :)**


	26. California

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

myimm0rtal has set up a _Not Without You_ discussion thread at Twillighted(dot)net

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* * *

Not Without You

PART 2

Chapter 26: California

I fell asleep on the sofa, my head in Edward's lap. I hadn't been aware I'd fallen asleep until I woke up to Edward stroking my hair. Alice and Jasper had left a few hours earlier, and I missed them already. When they left, they took a part of me with them. I couldn't be sure how significant this absence of myself was, or what effect it would have on me, but in its place, I'd been left with a lump in my throat that hurt when I swallowed--a reminder that something was missing. Their journey was beginning here in California, and they planned on ending up in New York in a few months time, then back here before summer. When I closed my eyes, I could pretend they were still sleeping on the sofa instead of me. Alice and Jasper, right here instead of heading south on the freeway, the distance between us constantly expanding, like the belly of an alcoholic, or the slow inflation of a hot air balloon.

"Are you awake, Bella?"

I lifted my head. "Yeah, are you uncomfortable?"

"Not at all. Go ahead, put your head down." Edward guided my head back to his lap, still stroking my hair. My eyes closed again.

"Masen sleeping?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Where are Rose and Emmett?" When I had fallen asleep, I was sure my feet had been on Emmett's lap.

"After Rosalie put Masen down, they thought it was too quiet. They went out to see a movie."

"We're alone?"

"All alone."

"When did they leave?"

"About fifteen minutes ago."

We hadn't been alone since we'd left Forks. I sat up, staring into Edward's eyes for all of two seconds, before lunging at his lips. He caught my face, holding me as we kissed. I felt his hands tangling in my hair at the back of my head. I ran fingers through his hair, too, and held him tight to my lips. Our breathing quickened. I moved my lips across his face, down his jaw and neck.

"I didn't even know I fell asleep."

"If you're sleeping," he breathed, "you're having one hell of a dream."

I laughed and lifted his shirt over his head. "I don't mean now. I meant before."

"Before what?" His shirt gone, he caught my lips in his again.

"Before this." I kissed him down his chest, over his stomach, until I was on my knees on the floor, pulling his pants free of button and zipper, and he lifted his hips so I could get them right off, boxers, too.

"Your turn," he said.

"For what?"

"Nakedness."

"Why should I get naked?"

"So I can put my hands all over you." He lifted me to him and kissed my neck, his warm hands up and under my shirt.

"Okay."

He took my waist and pushed me off him. "Stand back." His eyes were damp, his voice groggy and full, as if my kiss was still somewhere in his mouth.

"You don't want me close?" I pretended to pout.

"I want to watch you."

I smiled.

"Better."

I unbuttoned my jeans. "You want to watch me…" I turned around, pushing them down partially over my rear, "…do this?" A second later, I lifted my pants again and faced him.

"The first part." He extended his neck, raising his eyebrows as if he could see down my tight jeans if he found just the right angle.

I pushed my pants down to the tops of my thighs. "Like this?"

"More."

Down to my knees. "You don't want to do it?"

"I will be forced to if you don't get to it."

I took them all the way off, then slipped my thumbs between the thin straps of my panties. "What next? These?" I let go, letting them snap against my hips. "Or this?" I lifted my shirt just enough to show some stomach.

"Either one will work."

His eyes were still on my stomach, so I pulled my shirt over my head and then unhooked my bra, letting it ease from my arms. He reached out for my wrist and gave me a tug. I stumbled over to him, standing between his legs, and his hands drifted up my waist, over my ribs, landing at my breasts. My eyes closed as I felt his touch on me; then, needing more of his touch, I took his fingers and moved them to my hips.

"You do the last part," I whispered. His lips found my stomach, and I inhaled as he pushed my panties down until they dropped to the floor.

"Kiss me, beautiful," he said.

My hands on his shoulders, then over his biceps, feeling his muscles flex, I pulled myself to him and kissed him, whimpering as his touch returned to my breasts. He smiled, bringing me onto his lap. His kiss swept down my neck to my breast, and I was straddling him on my knees now, his lips and fingers exploring. My hands up his neck and in his hair, I brought his face back to my lips, and his hands fell down my sides to my waist, and then over my hips as I sat down against him and he pushed up into me. We held our bodies still, our lips and tongues kissing frantically, until we couldn't keep still any longer. Our kisses slowed down and our bodies moved teasingly against each other with the determined control of making our moment last. Our mouths moved in the same slow rhythm as our bodies.

"Edward…" I said into his mouth.

"Bella…" he said into mine, and butterflies shot through my stomach as I swallowed my name on his breath. And then our lips and our bodies sped up in pace, dominating our minds. Intoxicated by our lovemaking, our bodies, our lips, our hunger for each other took over. We were drunk on our own love. Uninhibited. Unrestrained. Unrelenting. As always, he waited for me, his hands tight against my waist, squeezing my sides for every ounce of control he could muster, and then he released himself with groans, his head against my chest.

Out of strength, I fell to his shoulder. Edward turned to to kiss my cheek, getting a mouthful of hair. He laughed, spitting it out while his arm came around my head to push my hair aside, so his kiss could land on my face and then the side of my neck.

He lifted me with ease, adjusting our positions, so that we both lay on the sofa, my back to his front in a perfect, naked spoon. Neither of us spoke. And then... then, we accidentally fell asleep. His breath on my neck was the last thing I felt.

* * *

A week ago, Jasper, Alice, Edward, Masen, and I had traveled from Forks to Palo Alto in two days, all five of us sharing one hotel room along the way. Alice rode with me in Edward's Bug, Masen strapped safely in back--the littlest one, and in complete control of how many stops we made. Edward drove my truck filled with Masen's crib, our clothing, bedding, and necessities. We didn't need any other furniture because the apartment came furnished. It was an on-campus apartment that Emmett's father found. Due to Stanford's first-year student residential living policy, we had no choice but to live on campus. Mr. McCarty had arranged for us to live in one of the available apartments in a graduate residency on campus. Edward's status of having Masen and me living with him got us the in. He'd filled out the necessary paperwork, and let Mr. McCarty take over from there. We'd be living mainly among graduate students, other students with families, or single parents.

Emmett was already settled into our apartment, waiting for us with Rosalie. She had two weeks before she had to get to Berkeley.

It was our second day on the road, and as we crossed the state line, Alice leaned out the window with my camera to photograph the sign--California, our destination close. We clasped hands, knowing that soon we'd be separated for months.

"Tell me your favorite memory of us," she said.

I thought for a long while, watching the road ahead of me while visions of two years worth of moments with Alice fluttered through my mind. "There's not just one favorite memory, but I love the time you took me on a date and ordered me a hamburger off the children's menu. And then, little you told those two guys off who wouldn't stop taunting us."

She laughed. "They stopped after that. They wouldn't even look at us after."

"What about you?"

"I have two. Both times you kind of saved me."

"Saved you how?"

"Well," she turned toward me, lifting a foot onto her seat, hugging her leg to her chest, "the first time was when I was freaking out over Mike's kiss, and you told me he was nothing more than a fly. I haven't seen him as anything but a fly since, and it makes me laugh a little inside whenever I look at him. The second time was prom at your house."

"At the Cullens' house."

"At _your_ house. You never called it yours, but that's what it was, Bella. Anyway, you had me make brownies with you to subdue my horniness."

"You knew that?"

"Of course I did. I humored you, but deep down, I wanted you or someone to save me from myself. At one point, I would have done it with him. I mean I really, _really_ wanted to."

"But you don't want to now? What about sharing rooms on the road?"

"Of course I want to, but my oath to myself is strong. Still, I don't know about the future, with Jasper and me being in such close proximity all the time. It's definitely going to be hard for both of us. But at least we're older now, and know we're going to end up together no matter what."

"I believe that," I said, looking over to give her a smile. "You two have really only had one fight since I've known you. Right after Jasper's parents announced their divorce."

"That was it. We never fight because Jasper can feel my frustrations, and he stops anything that might be bothering me before it escalates. And when he's always so nice, I have nothing to get on him about."

Masen's cries interrupted us, and I pulled over to nurse him. Edward and Jasper followed me into the next rest stop and Edward sat next to me, his hand around my hip, until Masen finished.

"Does he need to eat before we get going?" Edward asked.

"There's a jar of fruit in the bag and a spoon in the side pocket."

He grabbed it for me, and I sat Masen up on my lap while Edward fed him the peaches. It seemed Edward couldn't spoon it fast enough for Masen because he kept forming his little hand in the sign for "more" immediately following each bite. We were laughing, even Masen, revealing his new teeth.

The golden California sun had set, turning the sky to a deep sienna by the time we arrived in Palo Alto. Masen and Alice were both sleeping as I followed Edward into the parking lot. We entered our first floor apartment through the back because it was closer to our parking space than walking all the way around to the front. The back would become our main entrance. I carried Masen and his backpack as Edward carried a few of our other bags through the white kitchen, making a right into the living room. It was a large, open, square room with one big window next to the front door, a door that would rarely get any use. A stone-colored sofa lounged in the middle of the room, an oversized wood coffee table in front of it, and two matching plush chairs on either side, facing each other. An ottoman was on the opposite side of the table, providing another seat. That detail, along with the plum throw blanket over the sofa's back, and the houseplants littered about the room, gave me the impression that Rosalie had taken part in decorating and room arrangement.

On the wall across from the sofa was a large, natural wood shelving unit, holding a normal sized television (and I say normal because it was under fifty inches and actually small in comparison to what Emmett's family had in their house), books, and picture frames--only one with a photo in it. I looked closer to see the creased picture of Rosalie's sister, Irina. She was an older, shorter haired version of Rosalie, with just the slightest curve to her lips as though someone had asked her to smile, then snapped the shutter before her grin had the chance to fully reach her cheeks. Looking at her, so much life and movement coming from the photo as she stood outside in a long dress, blowing and clinging to her legs in the wind, her eyelids in a near-squint to shelter her eyes from that wind, I realized that from now on, Irina would forever remain the same, and eventually Rosalie would become an older version of her.

"We'll fill the rest of them over time," Rosalie said. "New memories." I turned and hugged her. She no longer stiffened like she used to at displays of affection. She hugged me back. Then, with her arm still around me, she showed me where I would share a room with Edward and Masen.

"Where's Emmett?" Edward asked, coming up behind us, his arms wrapping a box filled with Masen's toys. I touched him just to feel his strained biceps.

"He's picking up pizza. He's already found his favorite place, you know. Of course it's one of those gourmet places that doesn't deliver."

Alice and Jasper shared the sofa for a week, and we all spent our days sightseeing, getting to know the freeways, the bay, and the traffic. Late August here meant warm sun, but the air was cooler than in Phoenix. Palo Alto became my happy medium. Edward and Emmett complained about the heat more than once as temperatures reached the upper eighties and low nineties. But Edward stopped complaining when he saw how the heat brought my old skirts and shorts out of hiding. He had my bare legs to touch as he pleased, and it seemed he pleased all the time.

The Saturday we toured San Francisco, Edward's hand held my thigh as I held Masen, all of us seated on the fabric-covered BART train seats. Emmett, for some reason, refused to call it BART, choosing to say Bay Area Rapid Transit--sometimes confusing a few locals who, perhaps, didn't recall BART was an acronym, and not simply a name.

Stepping into the sunlight from the darkened, underground BART station, I learned quickly that shorts, though comfortable in Palo Alto, should not be part of my ensemble in San Francisco, even in August. Despite the chilly coastal breeze, all the movement from our walking quickly shed my legs of goose bumps.

Though Rosalie would hate to admit it, our trip was not well-planned, and in our spontaneity we missed our Trolley ride opportunity. The line for the Trolley outside Fisherman's Wharf was a near three hour wait, and Emmett had this cartoon map that showed Chinatown just over a mile away. At Emmett's suggestion, we left on foot with the intention of checking the Trolley line again upon our return from a stroll through Chinatown. We passed a small gaggle of young men in black leather, spikes around their necks, and tall mohawks sticking up from their heads. They wore signs around their necks labeling them "freaks," with signs at their feet stating that for just five dollars, you could have your picture taken with a freak.

"If they were true freaks," Emmett said, "they wouldn't have to wear signs."

Three long blocks later, we were confronted with the lovely revelation that the mile long walk would continue up steep hills the entire way. What made it worse was that previously we'd walked from the BART station near Pier 1, all the way to Pier 39. We'd traveled up and down the wharf, overflowing with shops and restaurants, seasoned with entertainers, jugglers, and stilt-walkers, all among the clamor of barking sea lions--docked, thick and wet, in cuddling clusters around the outskirts of the pier.

And now, heading upwards to Chinatown, carrying Masen in my sling, I refused to complain about what had become more of a hike than a stroll. Rosalie and Alice hadn't made any such resolution.

"It can't be that much farther," was Emmett's annoyed answer to every complaint.

Edward put his arm around me. "Do you want me to take Masen?" Hearing his name, Masen looked up wide and green-eyed at his daddy.

"I'm okay," I said, patting Masen's blonde head, and Rosalie narrowed her eyes at me.

"What?" I asked her.

"Are you human?" she asked. "Don't tell me your feet aren't killing you."

In all honesty, they were hurting, even in my sneakers, but I couldn't see what good would come of admitting it. All that would accomplish was increased guilt on Emmett for suggesting our spontaneous "short" walk.

"Here," Edward said, stopping to unwrap my sling and taking Masen from me. "No sense in possibly hurting your back." He lifted Masen high in the air. "Hey buddy!" Masen smiled and kicked his feet, looking as though he was trying to march off through the air, gravity-defying.

Jasper had found a way to avoid the complaints and amuse himself at the same time. Every time we passed a parking meter that was expired or nearly expired, he pulled a quarter from his pocket and pushed it into the meter. Once, he even ran ahead, when he spotted a meter maid making a stop.

"Wait," he called to her. "Wait. That's my car. He fished through his pockets. "Oh, shit," he said under his breath. "I'm out." He turned to us, still walking at our slow pace behind him. "Anyone have a quarter?"

"You fit in well here," Emmett said, reminded of all the loose change we'd been asked for by strangers throughout the day. He eased a quarter from his pocket and handed it to Jasper.

"Thanks," Jasper said to the meter maid, who pursed her lips and rolled her eyes at him.

"You know that's against the law?" she said.

"It can't be," Jasper said.

"Yep. Topping off someone else's meter is against the law." She nodded.

"But this is my car," Jasper said, taking a quick glance at it. "My Highlander."

She stepped in front of the car. "What's the license plate number?"

"I don't memorize that stuff. I'm a student. I have other things on my mind."

"It's personalized," she said.

Jasper looked back at us, out of lies.

"Besides," she said, pointing up at the sign, "there's a two hour parking limit here. Which means after an hour, you must _move_ your car, not feed the meter."

"Why didn't you mention all of this before you watched and waited for him to feed the meter?" Emmett asked.

"Relax," she said, releasing her first crooked-toothed smile, her cheeks bunching up big enough to poke and squish if you so well desired. "I'm not going to ticket him." She turned to Jasper. "I recommend you stop, though."

He shrugged. "I'm out of quarters anyway."

We finally made it to Chinatown, which, much like the wharf, consisted of mostly restaurants interspersed with shops selling a bunch of similar souvenirs or polyester clothing. Alice pulled us into a few stores. In one, she purchased what she called her first pair of ballet flats. Then she immediately changed out of her sandals, with a sigh and a, "Much better." The soles of her new ten dollar shoes would be torn by the end of our walk.

Masen's demands to eat persuaded us all to stop for an early dinner at a corner restaurant. We were lead through the dark, windowless dining area to a big round table, covered in a stark white cloth. The dim overhead lights gave the feeling of nighttime, though it was only late-afternoon. Emmett waggled his chopsticks at our server, calling him over to ask where the nearest Bay Area Rapid Transit station was.

The server frowned in confusion. "The bus?" he asked. I decided then that confusion was what Emmett was going for, the sole reason he'd refused to call it BART.

Obvious that English wasn't our server's first language, I found there was no need to confuse him further, and clarified for him. "BART," I said.

"Oh, oh, BA-RT." He carefully pronounced the word, looking at Emmett, as if correcting him. He gave us directions, pointing out the door, then curving his arm as though guiding us down the streets themselves.

On our ride home, Edward leaned to my ear, Masen asleep on his shoulder. "One of these days, we'll come back--you, Mase, and me. We'll take the car, and I'll show you the true beauty of this city."

"What are you talking about? I saw the Golden Gate Bridge today right from the pier, and Alcatraz, too. It _was_ beautiful."

He gave me a sideways glance and a crooked smile, before drawing me tight against him. "I'm keeping you," he said.

On Sunday, Alice and Jasper packed up their things and I watched stiffly, bracing myself for the weeping branches of change as they descended on me once again. This was an unwelcome change, saying goodbye to my friends. I didn't want to do it. I wanted to remain bathed in the denial that had lasted all week. Alice took turns clinging to me and Rosalie until the last time she was holding onto Rosalie. I went to them and clung, too.

"Masen," Alice said through tears. She went to his crib where he was napping, and no one complained when she lifted him and woke him up to say goodbye.

That's when Jasper came to hug me goodbye. "How can we get you to stay?" I asked.

"I can't. I have work to do. You, of all people, understand that."

"I know. You're too good for us. I don't even have to threaten you to take care of Alice because I already know you'll take better care of her than you do yourself."

"If I don't, I'll kick my own ass, Bella. You won't have time to miss us, though. We'll be back before school is out for summer."

"That's impossible. I already miss you and you're right in front of me."

Jasper kissed my cheek and gave me one last warm embrace. He went to Alice and took Masen from her, telling him to watch over his parents. We all walked them out the back door to the parking lot, Edward holding Masen now.

"I'm envious, man," Emmett said, clapping his hand against Jasper's shoulder hard enough to make Jasper step forward.

"Because you dream of serving food in soup kitchens?"

"You're no longer a slave to the calendar, my man. You're free of man's prison."

I went to Edward, slipping one arm around his waist, and my other arm around his front and over Masen, my head resting in that perfect spot between Edward's shoulder and chest. His hand on my hip squeezed me closer, and he kissed my head as we watched two of our best friends, essentially our siblings, drive away. Alice looked back once, and I couldn't allow myself to make eye contact with her. I wiped my eyes.

Inside, Masen signed for food, so I heated him up some mushy jarred chicken and green beans, promising him in my mind that I would start making him fresh food as soon as we had money for groceries. After I fed him, I set him on the floor with some toys and Rosalie joined him, stacking blocks for him, watching him knock them over, then clap proudly for himself. I leaned against Edward on the sofa and we were all quiet, Masen's laughs and claps the only sounds. Emmett was on the other side of the sofa, and my head was falling lower and lower against Edward until my head was in his lap, and Emmett lifted my legs on top of him. I felt Edward's fingers in my hair and let my eyes close.

* * *

Now, after making love on the sofa, Edward and I still sleeping against each other, there was the distant sound of a creaking door and then faraway familiar voices--one very deep. My eyes opened and I turned toward Edward, who had awakened also and was pulling the throw blanket over our bodies, with barely enough time to cover the important parts--our legs and shoulders still revealed. Nowhere to go, I buried my face in Edward's chest, and his arms came around my head as if he could cloak me and no one would see I was there.

"On the sofa?!" It was Rosalie's voice. "We all sit there."

"Not anymore," Emmett said, laughing.

"We were sleeping," Edward said.

"You're telling me that first you got naked and then you just _fell asleep_?" Rosalie said. I could imagine her hands on her hips, her blonde pony-tailed head tilted. "As if you guys could ever be naked around each other and just sleep. I am not your mother, Edward. You're going to have to do better than that."

"Hey. Give my mom some credit. She never would have bought that. She knew every time we had sex just by looking at us."

"Edward!" I said and lifted my head to glare at him.

"It's true," he said, just as Emmett said, "She's alive!" My face fell back to Edward's chest, and even if I was embarrassed, I couldn't help but kiss him, and for some reason that made Edward laugh.

"What's so funny?" Rosalie asked.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Well, Edward, I hope your inability to control yourselves was worth steam cleaning the sofa."

"It was," he said. "Don't worry about that, love."

I lifted my head again. "I'm love. She's Rosalie."

"No you're… _love_." His voice was soft and raspy when he said it, and he looked into my eyes, following it up with a kiss. "She got my cocky love."

We both laughed this time, which only made Rosalie's frustration with us grow. "We're going to the kitchen so you two can get up and go to your room, where you're free to act like weirdos in private."

We laughed again as they left the room. We couldn't stop laughing. I don't know why Edward was laughing, but my laughter was releasing some of my embarrassment, as well as the pent up possibility that Rosalie could be really angry with us right now.

"Come on," I said, still laughing, "before they come back and find we haven't left yet."

"Wait, wait, wait." He lifted his head to kiss my lips. "It's just Emmett and Rosalie. They'll get over it. Remember what they did in my bed on New Year's, and then yours on prom night? This is payback. Unplanned payback."

"You enjoyed this! I was dying of embarrassment, and you enjoyed it?"

"I didn't enjoy your embarrassment, but pissing them off was a little bit fun, yeah."

"You're lucky I love you, or you would be having girl trouble right now."

"You're right. I am lucky you love me. That's the point I've been trying to make for almost two years now. Tell me about this girl trouble, though. Is it the kind where we get to kiss and make up?" He lifted his head to kiss me again, and when I felt his tongue, I pulled back.

"You never get enough, do you?"

"Of you? Never." He held me closer, his lips on my shoulder and he inhaled. "How do you always smell so fucking good?" He inhaled deeply again, and on the exhale, the breath from his nose tickled. "I love the scent of your skin."

"Crazy boy, stop sniffing me and let's go to our room, before they come back."

* * *

**A/N**: Thank you for reading. Please review. :)


	27. Arboretum

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

myimm0rtal has set up a _Not Without You_ discussion thread at Twillighted(dot)net

www(dot)twilighted(dot)net / forum / viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=7726&p=829227#p829227

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 27: Arboretum

Walking outside and not seeing forest was one of the most difficult things for me to get used to at our new residence. Sure it was there, and the hills and all the beauty that nature so generously bestows, but it wasn't right outside my door. Some mornings, this was disorienting. Instead of vast, seemingly endless layers of fir trees aiming for the clouds, there were sidewalks and lawn, large planted trees and buildings, and when I ventured off campus, strip malls and a lot more traffic than I was used to.

I may have missed the abundance of Forks fir trees, but the everyday Palo Alto sun was an absolute welcomed sight, as well as the immense Redwoods that towered over houses as if standing guard, and beautified the landscapes of your pick of nature preserves and more parks than I'd ever expected to see in one town.

Back in Forks, I'd said goodbye to the fir trees--proud and domineering in their forest home watched over by gray skies. I bade the trees farewell like I did my dad, even literally hugging one, with goofy tears in my eyes.

"There are fir trees in California, Bella," Edward said, taking a step toward me with a sideways smile--obviously amused by my tears.

"Yeah, but not this one. This one will never even _see_ California." I stroked its trunk. "Poor tree."

"Poor tree?" Edward came to me, pulling me gently from the tree. "That tree is lucky. All these trees get more to drink than any other tree in the continental U.S. You should feel bad for the California trees. They have to store their water. Plus, they're endangered."

That night, as I got ready for bed through a maze of boxes, unsuccessfully dodging them--ramming my leg into a few--Edward stopped me.

"Put on something warm," he said. "We're going somewhere."

"It's after ten. Where are we going?"

"Here, put this on." He tossed me one of his heavy sweatshirts. I pulled the warm, plush cotton over my head, inhaling. It smelled like him. I came out of the neck of the navy sweatshirt smiling.

"Wear sweats," he said.

"Where are we going?" I asked again, stepping into my sweats.

"You'll see. And before you ask, my mom knows, and she's going to keep an eye on Masen."

He linked our fingers, led me down the stairs, out the door, through the forest, and all the way to our field, where we'd spent much of our engagement night on a blanket. This time, instead of a blanket on the ground, there was a tarp, on top of which rested two sleeping bags. Over them, a tall stick coming up firm from the earth held up another tarp like a tent--a makeshift tent.

"You wanted to sleep under the stars," he said. "Well, we're under the stars."

I looked up, beyond tree branches, into the deep blue-black sky, brightened by the glow of a three-quarter moon and stars that, in that moment, could actually be seen. I smiled.

"How do you keep getting better?" I asked. "Just when I think you couldn't possibly _be_ any better, you are."

"I do it for you," he said. "I told you once that you are always on my mind, and I meant it."

"I believe you," I said, nodding.

He traced my lips, my smile, then kissed me. His kisses were slow, pulling at my lips with his--his tongue gentle in my mouth, as if he was thinking about me as he kissed me. He thought about how he could make me feel and what I might like, and he gave it to me with his mouth. I thought about him in return and did the same, one hand on his face the other at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, kissing him firmer. Arched over me now, his arms encircled my back, and he moaned, returning my firm kisses with his own demanding kisses, fervent kisses, over my face down my neck to the back of my ear.

"Let's go to bed," he whispered into my ear.

We both climbed into one sleeping bag where we undressed each other, made love, and fell asleep skin to skin, remaining warm all night, our clothes and the other sleeping bag scattered around us unused and unnecessary. The sun on our faces woke us up early, the chill in the air following. I held tight to Edward.

"I don't want to get up," I said. "You're so warm."

"You too," he said, rubbing up and down my back. "And so soft."

This would be our last day and night in Forks. Every belonging that was making the move to Stanford with us was boxed up. We showered the forest off our bodies in Edward's bathroom, then readied Masen to go visit my dad for a final farewell. I'd come to learn that since Sue was now quite a fixture in my father's life, I would be surprised with a new scent each time I entered his house--whichever scented candles Sue had recently lit, themed by season. This late August day, the living room smelled of honey. It made me slightly hungry.

If I'd thought saying goodbye to the trees was hard, that was nothing compared to saying goodbye to my father. He and I couldn't even make eye contact with each other. Luckily we had Sue, Seth, and Leah there to distract us. The living room furniture sat around empty, as we all huddled opposite the sofa and coffee table, near the uncovered window--the sun streaking through the glass momentarily, before the next thick cloud darkened its path.

"I think I'll go to Stanford like you," Leah said to me. Her hair was down, tucked behind her ears, her near-black eyes shimmering like sunlight reflected in oil, and the mascara coating her eyelashes lengthened them in a curve nearly reaching her thick eyebrows. She'd grown prettier since the last time I'd seen her. In fact, every time I saw her she appeared prettier than the last. Or was it that I knew her better now, my feelings for her stronger, and I was able to recognize a beauty that had always been there?

"I'm not going to Stanford," I said. "Edward is."

"Oh, right."

"You can still apply," Edward said to her.

"Yeah," I said. "You should. Stanford's rated the fourth best school in the country."

Edward smiled at me, and tugged on my pinky. "You know that?"

"Just under Harvard, Princeton, and Yale. I saw your brochures." I smiled back at him.

"Oh no," Leah said, "don't do that. Don't go into your little bubble. You're here to see us." She pulled on my arm until I was standing between her and Seth, and away from Edward.

Seth hugged me, then Edward. I was sure he'd miss Edward more. "What's wrong with going to school in Washington?" Seth asked.

"Nothing's wrong with it at all," Edward said. "It's just not for me."

"You stay away from Paul and Sam," I told Leah.

She scoffed. "I avoid Paul like I avoid stepping in a puddle of puke. And Sam's been nice to me. Besides, I'm interested in someone else now."

"Should I feel sorry for him?" I asked.

"Most definitely."

Sue pulled me into an embrace in one quick motion, as if she'd been restraining herself but couldn't hold back any longer. Her hand came to my back over my hair, and she whispered in my ear, "Thank you for bringing out the best in Leah. We're all going to miss you, Bella."

"She brought it out of herself," I said. "She's not bad. She's tough, but not bad. And there is a really beautiful meaning behind her tattoo."

"She has a tattoo?" Sue pulled away from me. "You have a tattoo, Leah?"

"Bella!" Leah said, and I covered my mouth. I had no idea Sue was unaware of the tattoo. Seth was laughing, as was Edward a little. Even my dad had a smirk on his face, and I chanced a look at him, tears lacing my eyes, blurring my sight. I blinked and they drained down my face, clearing my vision so I could get a real last look at my dad before I left for California.

He brushed his thumb and forefinger over his mustache, then hugged me, and neither of us could say anything. Perhaps his chest was as swollen as mine. We communicated our goodbyes through squeezes. My dad, however, didn't have trouble saying something to Edward.

"You be good to her," he said. "She's my baby girl." His voice cracked, and that was the last we heard from him.

The following morning, our farewell to Carlisle and Esme wasn't any less tearful. It seemed Esme didn't even try to control her tears as she told Edward and me how proud she was of both of us, as parents and adults. She cried, though quietly and without sobs, as she held and kissed Masen. He reached up to touch her face, then made a grab for her hair, but she was used to that and ready to abate him. It was odd to see Esme cry. I hadn't seen it since Rosalie's sister's death. I hugged her tight like she was my own mother, and for a year and a half, she had been.

Hugging Carlisle goodbye was different. He wasn't like a father to me, perhaps because my own father was such a presence in my life. Carlisle was more like a very wise friend.

"Remember yourself," he said to me. "You matter more to Edward than anything. By taking care of yourself, you'll in turn take good care of both Edward and Masen."

I nodded even though I wasn't quite sure what he meant. There was no way I could ever place myself before Edward or Masen.

Edward pressed a few keys on the piano before we took our last walk through the living room, the foyer, and out the front door, stepping out into our final cold Forks morning before our new future began. Masen looked up at the sky bruised with gray clouds, almost as if he knew change was coming, too. I guarded his eyes from the light that fought its way around the gray and between the shade of the trees to his face. Then I took Edward's fingers and kissed them, bringing a smile to his lips, as we separated to our packed cars--heading off to Jasper and Alice.

The night before, Edward had played the piano. I awoke alone and listened for him, thinking he might be in the bathroom, but instead I heard his music. I crept down the hall and to the top of the stairs, where I sat in the dark, listening as his fingers swept over the keys. I couldn't place the song, which led me to wonder if it was one he'd made up, or was making up as he played. I didn't stay there long. He purposely hadn't woken me; this was something he wanted to do alone. His last, quiet moment with his piano. I returned to bed, but left the door open so the distant sound of Edward's melody could reach me every so often as I drifted off.

* * *

Masen was our alarm clock now at Stanford, waking me up in our new room, so much smaller than Edward's back in Forks. Our bed, centered perpendicular against one wall, was across from Masen's crib. Before she left for Berkeley, Rosalie had helped me find a room divider at a local consignment store, so Edward and I could at least have the effect of a separate room from Masen.

The wooden desk under the window was smaller than Edward's desk at home, too--really only enough surface space to hold his laptop. A chest of drawers, stuffed snug with our clothing, stood tall next to the desk. And on the other side of our bed was a small closet. Three of us shared a room meant for one.

I threw the hot covers off, made even hotter with the down mattress I almost couldn't live without. I worried we'd have to get rid of it in California in order to sleep sweat-free. Lifting Masen from his crib, I took him to the window, allowing him to peer out at the circular courtyard garnished with potted plants, and small trees in bricked-in squares of soil. Grass grew between brick-paved paths branching out to different apartments. Masen, unimpressed by the pretty little setting, fussed some more, and I brought him to bed to nurse him.

Surprised Masen's whimpers hadn't already awakened him, I patted Edward's sticky shoulder. "Edward," I said. "You have to get up for school."

His groan was a sort of half-whine.

I kissed the back of his shoulder. "School," I said.

He turned toward me, revealing his bare chest that I had to touch. He brought my hand from his chest to his lips, and smiled.

"Morning, loves," he said, kissing Masen's head.

It was the second Monday of school for Edward and Emmett. Rosalie had left the night before, as she left every Sunday night after her weekend visits. Mondays, though harder on everyone else, were easiest on me because I awoke to a clean apartment. Come Friday, I'd be ready to rip my hair out at the sight of the mess, too tired to clean. But for now it was clean-Monday, and I took Masen out to enjoy the late-Summer day, appreciating all the warmth I could before Fall came around.

Masen held tight against my chest in my sling, I caught the Marguerite Shuttle past Spanish-style buildings with red tile roofs, some petite against neighboring high-rises--Stanford University, its own little world. We traveled down Campus Drive to Galvez Street, and disembarked near the arboretum. Tucking my campus map in my back pocket, I headed off the street, toward trees of many shapes and sizes growing from the dry earth, a sort of golden color under our feet--or more so the color of wheat. I let Masen down and walked hunched over, his fingers clinging to mine as he took wobbly steps in front of me. I let him guide me over the dirt to the open grassy space since it didn't really matter where we ended up. I had no destination in mind.

It smelled different here than in Forks--drier. One place didn't necessarily smell better or worse than the other, just different. I took a deep breath--the air from the trees certainly fresh, even invigorating. The only tree species I recognized by name were the few fir trees, of course, and the pines. I let Masen choose a spot sparsely shaded under a tree with narrow leaves that hung like banana bunches. I sat Masen across from me to spoon him his lunch. He kept grabbing at my hand, trying to do it himself, smearing a green mess all over his face. I laughed and wiped him off with his bib.

"You can't do that, Mase. There's no way to give you a bath here."

My stomach growled, reminding me that I'd forgotten to pack myself a lunch. I tasted some of Masen's mashed up green beans, and after scrunching my nose and mouth in disgust, I smiled, saying, "Mmm… yum," deciding it was best to keep the baby food for Baby.

When Masen was done, he let me know by squeezing his mouth tight, and hitting my hand away. Then he held my arm and pulled himself to a standing position, smiling and clapping for himself, before falling on his butt.

"You're too funny," I told him, nuzzling his nose with mine. "Good job, baby! Do that again."

I held my hand out for him to grab onto and make his way to his feet again.

More students began to approach our area as they, perhaps, came to enjoy their own lunch breaks with the trees. A blue foam ball, just Masen's size, rolled by and bumped my leg.

"Sorry," came a male voice, followed by a little boy toddling over, staring wide-eyed at Masen, as if he was trying to decide just what it was he was looking at.

"Riley," said the voice, "pick up your ball."

I handed the ball to the little boy in his cardinal red Stanford U baseball cap. "Stanford bound, too?" I asked him.

"No pressure," the man, who must have been his dad, said.

I peered up at the father for the first time. He was also wearing a ball cap, but it was the black and orange colors of the San Francisco Giants, and under the cap, his hair fell over his neck, a near white-blond. His eyes were almost unearthly pale, such a light gray-blue, they looked close to silver. I'd never seen anything like them. He wore a white printed T-shirt that I didn't fix my eyes on long enough to read, and loose fitting shorts, revealing skinny legs. He was definitely older than me but I couldn't place an age. Somewhere over twenty and under thirty, I gathered.

"Eucalyptus, good choice," he said.

"What?"

"You're sitting under the Eucalyptus tree." He reached up and plucked a leaf, handing it to me. "Smell."

It was the refreshing scent I'd smelled from a distance, but this close to my nose, it was good enough to eat, and reminded me a bit of Rosalie's shampoo.

"There are half as many Eucalypti out here than there were in the seventies. It's beautiful, though--blooms white in the spring."

"Oh." I nodded.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to bore you with environmental talk. I can't help it sometimes."

"It doesn't bore me. I love useless information."

"I wouldn't call it useless," he frowned, a look of insult on his face. "I wouldn't call any knowledge useless. Everything matters."

His statement sounded as if it had come straight from Emmett's mouth. I had no doubt Emmet would have agreed with him. Still, if Emmett had heard the statement just then, nothing could have stopped him from diving straight into a mind-wrestle like a baseball player stealing second.

The white-haired man squatted down to address Masen. "This is Riley," he said, bringing his son over by the hand. "What's your name?"

"…Masen." My voice chased away the stiff silence that had formed as we'd waited for an answer that would never come from Masen himself. "It's nice to meet you, Riley." I held out my hand as if he would shake it, and he did, which surprised me and made me laugh. "How old is he?"

"Fifteen months. I taught him that. How old is yours?"

"He'll be one in October." And then I cringed, thinking of how my baby's birthday was less than a month away.

"I haven't seen you two here before."

I frowned at his odd sentence.

"We come here often," he said. "All the time. We see a lot of the same faces."

I nodded. "So you go to school here."

He laughed, and I realized how ridiculous that sounded, my eyes darting to the ground, then to my son, who was trying to eat grass. I swiped it from his hands and he whined at me.

"I live at Escondido Village."

"Oh," I said, recognizing the name of the apartments from my map--not far from our apartment building. "You're a grad student, then."

"GES," he said, and I blinked at him, waiting for clarification. "Geological and Environmental Sciences--it's a mouthful. You a grad student as well?"

"No." I laughed.

"What's so funny? It's possible."

"No, it isn't. I just graduated high school."

"Well, in four years it'll be possible."

I didn't tell him that in four years I'd just be starting undergrad school, and where, I was still unsure.

We gave our somewhat awkward conversation a rest and focused on our little ones playing next to each other, but not interacting until Riley dropped his ball again. Masen picked it up, brought it to his lap, and hit at it with his open hand.

"Go ahead," Riley's dad said to Masen. "You can roll it. Like this." He tapped the ball out of Masen's lap and we all watched it roll away. Riley went after it.

"Have you walked The Dish?" He motioned with his hand in the direction of where it must have been. I'd heard of it, an almost four mile walk up hills overlooking the Peninsula.

"No. This is as adventurous as we get. Tall trees, flat ground."

"You should check it out. Amazing views up there. You can see across the bay, all the way to downtown San Francisco."

"I'm not really the type that should be hiking with a baby. I tend to trip."

"Nah. That's no excuse not to see the view. I'll take you up there sometime--make sure you don't fall. Besides it's all paved, no danger."

I stared at him for a minute, unsure of what to say. He held a hand out to me.

"Caius," he said. "Not crazy, not coming on to you, just friendly."

I shook his hand. "Bella."

"Wave goodbye to the nice people, Riley." They both waved. "Maybe we'll see them tomorrow."

I stood up, wiping the back of my shorts. "Caius? I'm not presuming you're coming on to me, but I still think I should tell you that I'm engaged to Masen's father."

He nodded. "And I'm just getting out of a marriage… Seriously, not anywhere _near_ the realm of looking for anything right now."

"Okay."

"Anyway, I've obviously freaked you out enough. Maybe we'll run into each other again, maybe we won't." He smiled and waved before picking up Riley and walking back the way they came.

Masen, grass stains on his bare knees from crawling around the arboretum, needed a bath by the time we got back to the apartment. He sat in the tub, throwing bubbles at me. I squealed, pretending they hit me, even though they never made it three inches past him. I'd do anything to make him laugh, and laugh he did. I was on the sofa, dressing Masen for his nap when Edward returned from school with hugs and kisses for us.

"Masen made a friend today," I told him.

"All right, Mase," he said, lifting his hand to give him five. "Daddy was offered a job today!"

"You were?!" I stood up, resting Masen on my hip. "Where?"

"The after-hours clinic at the Stanford hospital. I'll work 6:00 to 9:00."

"When will you study?"

He looked at his watch. "Uh, 3:00 to 5:30, and in between classes, and all night long." He laughed as if it were a joke. I gave him a half-smile, knowing it more than likely wasn't. "But Bella-" he took my shoulders "-the insurance is awesome. No co-payment, and Masen's covered automatically. I'm going to add you, but since we're not married, your portion will be deducted from my paycheck."

I didn't know how to respond to that. He'd be working in spare time that he didn't have to pay our share of rent, gas, and now _my_ insurance.

"It's okay," he said. "I want to do it. It's better that you're covered like this."

I nodded. There wasn't really an alternative. When I'd turned nineteen, I'd been automatically removed from my father's insurance.

"This is us," he said. "You, me and Mase. We're a family. We give and take. You've given me an incredible amount just by being here." He kissed me. "Okay?"

I smiled with tears in my eyes. "Thank you."

"No." He kissed me again. "Don't thank me."

"I'll put Masen down, and start dinner while he's napping. At least I can do that."

I left Edward in the living room, heading for our room, and sat on the bed to nurse Masen before laying him down. He finished sooner than usual. Now that he was eating baby food more often throughout the day, he didn't nurse as much, and my milk wasn't producing like it used to. I kissed Masen goodnight and swallowed my pride. I had to stop disparaging Edward for wanting to provide for me--he shouldn't have to make excuses for it. Our living situation was a joint decision; we'd talked about it; we both wanted this. I had to accept it for both Edward's sake and mine. And like Carlisle had said after my confrontation with Phil, it wouldn't always be this way. We were doing what was best for our future as a family.

When I saw Edward again in the living room, I was all smiles, and I commanded him to start studying while I started dinner. Instead, he followed me into the kitchen to help me.

"You said you'd teach me, remember?"

"Okay." I smiled. "Preheat the oven to 400. We're going to slow roast this pork..." I held up my pot, "with small potatoes and carrots, the way my mom taught me. It'll be ready, and moist enough to fall off the bone, by dinner time."

Emmett walked in through the back, carrying his books. He let the door slam behind him, the glass window in the center rattling.

"Hey, Edward," he said. "Love." He'd begun calling me _Love_ as he'd heard Edward say it more and more. It started as a joke to make fun of Edward, but it seemed to be sticking. We waved to him, and let him stalk past us to study, or call Rosalie, while Edward and I finished preparing dinner.

* * *

**A/N**: Review please. :)


	28. Babysteps

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

myimm0rtal has set up a _Not Without You_ discussion thread at Twillighted(dot)net

www(dot)twilighted(dot)net / forum / viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=7726&p=829227#p829227

* * *

Not Without You

Ch. 28: Baby-steps

In our newly-claimed pocket full of trees, Masen and I ran into Caius and Riley again the next day. Or more specifically, they ran into us. Once again, under the fragrant, pointed leaves of our adopted Eucalyptus, we ate our lunch. I, having remembered to pack myself a sandwich this time, took bites in between feeding Masen his peach slices. Caius waved as they walked by us, Riley on his shoulders. He kept his distance, and I felt a pang of guilt for possibly insulting him the day before.

"Caius," I called and waved him over. When he stood tall over me, I squinted up at him--fighting the glare of the sun--unsure of what to say. "You- you don't have to avoid us."

"I waved," he said with a shrug.

"What I mean is you didn't freak me out yesterday. I just wanted to be clear about Edward. There've been misunderstandings in the past..." I thought of Paul and his deliberate smirk, and then of Kate and her accommodating sofa. "But I'm glad that Masen might have a friend to play with." I smiled.

"Really?"

I nodded and he sat down, lifting a squirming Riley off his shoulders, over his head to his lap. His ball cap had been knocked off in the maneuver, and he replaced it. "Good, because I can sure as hell use a friend right now, too."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

I laughed. "Well, you tell me when you're ready."

He released Riley because it was really either that or continue to be kicked. Riley ran in circles around us, cracking Masen up. As many times as I'd heard Masen laugh, he'd never laughed as long or as hard as he did just then. The sight of him made me kiss his adorable, smiling cheek.

"So," Caius said, taking an apple from his backpack, rubbing it on his shirt, and crunching into it. "You never told me what you're majoring in."

"I'm not," I said. "Edward goes to school here, not me."

It was Caius's turn to nod in understanding, or what he thought was understanding anyway. "I see. School's not for everyone."

"No. I mean, it _is_ for me, but we can't manage it yet financially, and with Masen to think about..."

He eyed me for a moment, blinked a few times, took another bite of his apple, then asked, "Is that really your reason? Because if that's what's preventing you from school, there are resources at your disposal." He adjusted his hat on his head, lifting it, and replacing it. I would come to learn that this action occurred when he was either deep in thought, or unsure of himself. "My wife--ex-wife--and I did it. We weren't sure we could at first, but she completed school two years ago, and I'm in my final year now. You'd be surprised by what you can accomplish."

"How?"

"There are grants, student aid… and daycare on campus. There's a long-ass waiting list for the daycare, though, so if you're even mildly considering this, I recommend you get Masen on that list now. There's nothing to lose in just adding his name."

I thought about what he said. Was this possible? What kind of grants did he mean? And Masen in daycare? Someone else taking care of him? A stranger? I shook my head.

"What?"

"Never mind," I said, and took a bite of my sandwich.

"What?" he said again. "Did I overstep?"

I swallowed. "I think I'm better off looking into a job before I think about college. Edward shouldn't be doing it all. He just shouldn't."

Voicing that remark didn't stop me, however, from opening Edward's laptop that afternoon while Masen napped, breathing deeply behind the screen next to me. Seated at the desk, I searched websites of Bay Area colleges. San Jose State was only a thirty minute drive, and San Francisco State, which seemed to have the more extensive literature program of the two colleges, was easily accessible by public transit. Was this possible? Or more so, was it plausible? That thought brought with it a giddy feeling in the pit of my stomach_, _an excitement for college I hadn't allowed since I'd found out I was pregnant. Hearing the back door creak then slam, I instantly closed out my page, and shut the laptop.

"How long has he been asleep?" Edward whispered, entering our room, and quietly closing the door behind him.

I stood up. "About ten minutes."

"We have time, then."

He dropped his book bag to the floor and started kissing me so quickly and with such instant passion that it made me giggle.

"Shh," he said. "Don't wake him up. I need you."

I frowned. "Why? Is something wrong?"

He shook his head without removing his lips from my neck. "Because you're beautiful…" he said, licking my neck up to my ear, "...and I love you. Does there have to be any other reason?"

My eyes closed, and his lips landed on mine. He was fast getting me out of my clothes and to the bed, lying under him. He was so fast, and so into it, that I was surprised, even shocked, when his lips left my body and he froze where he was like someone had slammed his brake.

"Why'd you stop?" I near panted.

"Look at your ribs." He brushed his hands over them, and despite the fact that the tender action had been out of concern, it felt good, and I inhaled. "I can see your bones."

"So kiss them."

He looked at me. "Are you eating enough?"

"Yes."

"When did you get so thin?" His hand grazed down my side and over my hips. "Why didn't I notice before?"

"I don't know." I brought one arm across my ribs and the other over my stomach.

"No, don't cover yourself." He moved my arms. "I didn't mean to make you feel self-conscious. I just don't know how I haven't noticed."

"I'm not self-conscious. I'm fine with my weight."

"What is your weight?"

"You don't ask a girl that." I tugged on his shoulder, trying to bring him closer, trying to distract him, but it didn't work.

"Bella, this isn't a game."

"105, more or less."

His lips twitched. "_More_ or _less_?"

"Less."

He closed his eyes and he whispered, "Bella." Then as he opened his eyes again, he brought his hand to my face.

"You know," I said, "I chase Masen around a lot now, and I've never been that big of an eater."

"Don't lose any more weight. You'll be skin and bones."

"Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"You're killing the mood. I thought you needed me. Kiss my bony body."

He gave me a half-smile before following my suggestion, kissing over the ribs he'd said he could see. If his mind was still on my weight, it was no longer apparent. His kisses, licks, touches, and quiet, controlled moans veiled everything in the world outside of our lovemaking.

Afterwards, I lay on my side facing Edward, tracing his chest. "Edward, you didn't even say hello to me." I smiled at him.

"Hello, Bella," he said.

"Mmm," I said, resting my cheek on his chest as he rolled to his back, his hand sweeping my hair. "I love the way you say my name after sex."

"Just after?"

"And during. Is everything okay now?"

"Nothing could be better," he said.

"Do you remember our first time?"

"How could I forget? It was one of the best nights of my life. The kind you relive over and over in your mind."

"I'm glad neither of us have been with other people. It's so… unique."

His laugh shook us both. "I agree."

"Do you ever wish you could experience someone else?"

"No, Bella. Fuck. Why? Do you?" He lifted his head.

"Of course not. As a guy, I just thought maybe you felt differently about it."

He took my hand in his and linked our fingers, his head falling back to the pillow.

"As a _guy_," he said, "the way I feel about you, is so much more than lust. I can't imagine being with anyone else like this. Ever."

I looked down at him, my eyes on his. "You know what?"

"What?"

"Why can't there be more men like you in the world?" I pushed my fingers through his hair.

"Why can't there be more women like you?"

"I'm not that special." I shook my head. "Good guys are more of a rarity than good girls."

"You, love, are one of a kind," he said, lifting up to kiss me.

I sighed, resting my face on his chest again, unconvinced by what he said. I knew he meant it, but I didn't believe it about myself. That disbelief was kept further at bay by my self-admission that I was now keeping particular thoughts from him. At that moment, feeling so close to Edward--his heart beating against my cheek, his fingers sliding through my hair and over my back--I thought about sharing with him these recent hauntings of my mind. But I couldn't bring myself to burden him with my uncertainties about college--that I'd begun to question my own decision to delay it. Certainly this would pass. It had to.

"I love you," I said, feeling the need to reassure him that despite my conflicting thoughts, my love was unwavering. Then I wondered: _Have I just told him I loved him out of guilt?_I swallowed all of my self-doubt as though it were rancid meat. I forced it out of my mind, allowing only thoughts of Edward--his loyalty to Masen and me, his desire to take care of us the best way he knew how, and his ability to make our future together a reality. I hugged him tight. "I love you," I said again, this time just for him.

* * *

Two weeks before Masen took his first step into his second year of life, I invited my parents and Edward's parents to visit for the little guy's birthday. My mother was the first to respond that the earliest availability she had for a visit would be in Spring. Perhaps she would celebrate his one-and-a-half year birthday. Carlisle was able to get one day off from the hospital, so he and Esme would fly in on the morning of Masen's birthday, and out the same night. My dad wondered if he could impose--his words, not mine--and bring Sue, Leah, and Seth. Leah, though not seriously considering Stanford for college, did want to check out some local state colleges. I offered to go with her, as I was still--despite my inner battle toward the opposite--more than a bit curious about local colleges myself. **_  
_**

Unlike for all of them back in Washington, Autumn was _seen_ here in California before it was felt. The leaves of deciduous trees metamorphosed from green to coppers and russets, some falling crisp to the ground, while us humans, still dressed in short-sleeves, continued to rely on the trees for their shade. Edward and I slept with our blinds up and our window slightly open, while birds whistled right outside. Back in Forks, surely the only sounds heard through the windows in early October would be raindrops.

I'd learned a few weeks ago that Caius and Riley only ventured to the arboretum bi-weekly--the weeks Riley was with his father instead of his mother.

"I'm no fun to be around when Riley isn't with me, anyway," Caius had told me. "I'm a grouch the entire week."

I couldn't imagine him being a grouch, but I took his word for it. Grumpiness would be the least of my worries had I been forced to be away from Masen for even a few days.

Masen, without Riley to entertain him, was unsatisfied sitting in one spot. He wanted to explore, and walk around the grassy area. He was getting more and more stable on his feet, now only holding onto one of my hands as I let him lead the way until we reached the end of the grass and came upon dirt. I turned him around, and back we went the opposite way.

The Monday I expected the return of Caius and Riley, I had to force Masen to sit down just to get him to stop and eat. He squirmed and fussed loudly, drawing looks from passersby, until I got the first spoonful of applesauce into his mouth. His fit waned, finally over-powered by his hunger; he ate, panting eagerly for more .

As I fed him, a sheet of paper fluttered down and into my lap. I caught it between my fist and my leg before the breeze swept it away. Caius smiled over me, Riley on his shoulders.

"What is this?" I asked, then frowned at him. "And what's on your shirt?" I may never have smoked the drug, but I knew a cannabis leaf when I saw one. And there was a large one screen-printed on his shirt.

He laughed. "It's not about marijuana," he said. "This shirt is made of hemp. It's good for the environment. It's a message."

"Well, I hope you're getting the right message to the right people." I looked into the pale face of the man who had instantly transformed from an Emmett equivalent to part Emmett and part Jasper. I wondered what surprise he might spring on me next.

"Are you suggesting that I may be corrupting the naïve and innocent minds of Stanford? Anyway, look at my gift." He motioned to the paper still sitting in my lap.

I picked it up. It was some sort of form, with "Arboretum Child Care" printed across the top.

"Arboretum Child Care?" I repeated what I'd read, then looked around. "I didn't think buildings were allowed here."

"No. It's actually on the other side of Arboretum Road. The shuttle makes stops there. Anyway, just fill it out. No harm. I'll even turn it in for you when I drop Riley off. You can decide later if you need their services or not, but really, get Masen on the list. It could take a year before they have available space." He let Riley down, who immediately went after Masen's applesauce. I held it away.

"Here, you can even use my pen." Caius handed me a pen from his backpack, then sat down.

"Why are you doing this for me?" I asked, still undecided if I would fill out the form.

He shrugged. "Because of your eyes."

"My eyes?"

"They remind me of doe eyes. You look at the world like you've never seen it before--like you're fascinated by it. I can tell you want more."

I felt my _doe eyes _narrow. Definitely Jasper today. "Riley goes to this daycare while you're in class?"

He nodded. "And on the days I work."

"Where do you work?"

"Fill out the paperwork while I answer."

I looked down at Masen.

"I'll keep an eye on the kids, too."

I popped the pen open, and then began filling in my name. Masen crawled after Riley.

"Don't go too far, buddy," Caius said to his son before addressing me. "I work at an old downtown house that's been converted into a bed and breakfast. I concierge there on the weekends and some evenings. When the daycare isn't available, I bring Riley with me. This sweet old lady owns the place, and she doesn't mind. She loves Riley like a grandson. She wears these dresses that are way too big, like she used to be much larger, but since losing weight, has never made a new purchase." He smiled and shook his head in endearment, as if he'd just been describing his own adorable grandmother.

"Is she hiring?"

"Why?" He laughed. "You interested?"

"Yeah, I am."

"All right. I'll check into it for you."

I shook the paper. "Hey, thanks for doing this. You didn't have to."

"Like I said, I wanted to." He had to run after Riley and Masen then, who were getting a little far from us. He lifted them both at the same time and carried them back.

"You should bring Riley to Masen's birthday party next weekend," I said, taking Masen from Caius. Masen must have been tired; he'd settled so willingly into my lap.

"Yeah, I would but… he'll be with his mom."

"Can't you get her to switch?"

He shook his head. "When I try to switch with her, she has me give up my weekend, and keeps him for two in a row. I can't handle that."

"Why would she do that?"

He set his son on the ground, and we watched as Riley discovered a shallow tree-root to climb back and forth over. "It makes sense to her. By switching the schedule, I would have him for two weekends, so she balances it out, you see?"

I nodded.

"But… I may be able to get her to come. Riley's first birthday party attendance..." He gazed out into the distance, folding his lips into his mouth in thought. "She might go for that. Do you mind if she comes?"

"Not at all."

Masen took hold of my shirt and stood himself up, then hit my shoulder.

"What is it? Do you need your diaper changed?" I made the sign for diaper, and he reciprocated with his own version of the sign.

"Impressive," Caius said, before going after Riley, who had given up on the shallow root, deciding that running away was more fun.

I snagged a diaper from the backpack and laid Masen down in the grass. "Ew," I said when I saw what Masen had for me in his diaper.

"Ew," Masen said, as I wiped him up.

"What did you say?"

"Ew," he said again.

"That's right," I said, smiling. "Ew."

* * *

Caius had reminded me so much of Jasper that, during the shuttle ride home, my mind wandered to Alice. I decided to invite them to Masen's party as well. I knew they wouldn't be able to make it, but I still held the slightest hope that somehow, they could. It took Alice two days to get back to me.

In her email, she asked me to kiss Masen for her, but didn't mention whether or not she and Jasper would come. I supposed she thought the answer was as obvious as it should have been to me. Instead, she told me of an old house that had been granted to a couple in need--the daughter of whom had a heart condition. Alice couldn't, or chose not to, elaborate on the condition. She just said that the little girl was ten, sweet, and spunky.

"We painted her room lavender, Bella," Alice wrote, "And before the paint dried, we threw glitter at the walls, so they would sparkle in the light. You should have seen the little girl: brown hair, shorter than mine, her whole body covered in glitter. She couldn't stop smiling. I wish you had been here. You would have loved it. The girl, Anna, she begged her mom not to make her bathe, and she slept drenched in glitter. She said she felt like a fairy.

"When we left, this strange sadness fell over me. I couldn't understand why. We'd had a great day. Anyway, of course Jasper felt it. He put his arm around me and told me how genuinely happy the family was, despite Anna's illness, and that we shouldn't feel sorry for them. They wouldn't want it. But, Bella, I just don't know how you can't feel bad for them when they are so carefree now, but soon, the parents will lose the only bit of sunshine they have. Their sparkle."

I'm convinced that no parents, having read something like that, could have avoided thinking about their own child. I went to Masen, just behind his screen, sleeping angelically in his crib--on his side, his little folded hands resting under his chin. I touched his soft snoozing face, his pouty lips, his thin eyebrows. He stirred, bringing his fingers to his mouth to suck on. I couldn't leave. I stood over him, watching for nearly an hour until he woke up. And when he did, and he saw me there, he smiled. I smiled back, lifted him, held him close, and cried.

* * *

The Friday evening before Masen's birthday party, Rosalie, Emmett, Edward, and I were putting the pressure on Masen to take his first steps. I really wanted Edward to be around when it happened. He'd missed so much already.

Emmett held my video camera while I sat on the floor before the sofa, holding Masen's hands. "Let go," I told Masen, and he did, smiling. "Now take a step." I scooted back to make room. "Come here," I said. He did come to me, but he held on to the light wood surface of the coffee table for support. "We need more room," I said, and Emmett pulled the table aside with one hand.

"Turn him around," Rosalie said, sitting in the chair behind me. "Have him walk to Edward."

I turned Masen, and Edward knelt across from us, holding his arms out. "Come here, Mase. Come on."

Masen, standing on his own, bounced up and down, bending and straightening his legs, and squealing, but wouldn't take a step. We all watched him stand there for minutes, still stuck in the same spot. He stood so firmly, not even a little wobbly, that I knew if he tried to take steps he could do it, but he just wouldn't. Edward held his hand closer to Masen's, and as soon it was within reaching proximity, he took Edward's fingers and walked to him, then letting go he clapped with delight. He turned to the rest of us, as if waiting for our applause, so we joined in.

"He's not ready," Edward said. "If he was ready, he'd do it."

"He can do it," I said. "I know he can."

"But for whatever reason, he doesn't want to," Edward said.

Emmett set the silver video camera, no bigger than his hand, on the pushed-aside table. "We'll try again later, B."

Rosalie went to Edward and lifted Masen, as if rescuing him. "You did great," she said, and circled his nose with hers.

I crawled to Edward. "I want him to do it for you," I said, grabbing hold of his shirt at the side.

"I don't have to work until Sunday," he said. "He'll do it." He took my forearm, pulling me closer to kiss me.

"Come on, Masen," I heard Rosalie say behind me. "Your mommy and daddy have to make out now."

I laughed against Edward's lips. He laughed, too. "She's right, though," he said, then kissed me deeper, his arms enveloping me, our laughter fading.

My dad, Sue, Leah, and Seth had arrived that morning, and were out touring colleges. They had to leave almost right after their arrival--filled with greetings, embraces, and Masen-kisses--only having this one day to get through three colleges. I was unable to accompany them after all, since I had to get ready for the party and lacked a legitimate reason at that point to tag along. I did, however, take a moment to pull Leah into my bedroom.

"Leah," I said, "I know I did an awful job of keeping your tattoo a secret, but in my defense, I wasn't aware it was a secret."

"Is this an apology?"

"Not exactly. I need a favor, and I need it kept secret from everyone."

"What are we, like, sisters now?"

"If you're not comfortable with it-"

"No, I am. What is it?" She leaned forward with a raised eyebrow and a sly smile, as if I was about to tell her something really juicy.

"Would you grab some extra brochures and admission application forms? You'll be taking some anyway, right? Just take one extra of each. For me. Please?"

"_This_ is your secret? Everyone already knows you're planning on college."

"I know. But I don't want anyone knowing that it's on my mind right now. Not until I decide some things and get my head straight."

I didn't realize my head was literally tilted until she reached over and straightened it for me. "No worries. I'll do it, and I won't tell anyone. But next time, Bella, when you say you're going to tell me a secret, make it a good one."

With Leah's help, I would later hide the only papers that pertained to my interests--San Jose State--at the bottom of my underwear drawer. I felt more than a pinch of guilt in my heart that I was actually hiding something. That tightness had me yanking at the papers and tossing them in the garbage.

"What are you doing?" Leah asked.

I glanced down at the trash can by the desk, now filled with college forms. I quickly bent down, pulled them out, returned them to my drawer, and left the room, the trash can empty.

"Imagine if we end up at the same college," Leah said, following me out.

That was exactly the kind of thought I'd tried hard _not_ to imagine. I loathed the simultaneous excitement and resistance that played at me like tug-of-war whenever I seriously considered college. I still knew that, first and foremost, I needed a job.

After Leah had helped me hide the papers, she then threw herself lengthwise into the sofa. "It's so hot here!" she said, breaking up conversations around the room. "Doesn't California know it's October?!"

"I think it's nice," I said. "You can't tell me you miss the rain."

"I'll tell you one thing: in Washington, we never have to wish for rain like you guys do." Then she shot up to a sitting position. "Masen?"

We all followed her gaze to Masen, who'd let go of the coffee table completely, took three steps, then bent over to scoop up his soft ball.

"Edward?!" I said. "Please tell me you saw that!"

He put an arm around my waist and kissed the side of my head.

"I saw it, love."

I looked up at him. We were both beaming our proud-parent smiles.

"We all saw it, love," Emmett said, reaching for the video camera, having been silently deemed our videographer.

"Take more steps," I whispered to Masen, leaning toward him. Then I noticed the bright redness around his lips. "What's that on his mouth?" When I looked closer, I noticed he was clutching something. I opened his squirming hand to find half of a strand of licorice. "How did he get this?"

I turned to Emmett, the only one known to keep a constant supply of Red Vines. His face partially protected by the video camera, I saw his one eye widen.

"You gave him candy? He could choke on this."

He dropped his arm, the video camera now at his side. "He was only sucking on it; I was watching him."

"Emmett!" Rosalie said.

"What? He saw me eating it and made that sign for please. I couldn't refuse him when he did that."

"You-" I pointed at him "-have just earned an official get-out-of-babysitting-free card. You can't give him something just because he's cute and has good manners."

"I'm sorry, love. I won't do it again."

"Why does everyone call you 'love'?" Leah asked. "Are we all supposed to call you that now?"

"No," I said, as Emmett at the same moment, said, "Yes."

"Bella?" Seth said from behind me, standing between my dad and Sue. I turned to him. "Forget about the licorice. Masen's fine, and he just took his first steps in front of everyone."

I let out a small laugh, shook my head, and went over to hug him. "Never change, wise one," I said.

"Wait," Edward said. "I'm smart boy, dumb boy, crazy boy, but he's 'wise one'?"

"Admit it, Edward," I said. "Seth is wise. Don't be jealous."

Edward laughed.

"He's like his father in that way," Sue said, a proud smile on her lips.

"Who am I like?" Leah asked, returning to her sprawled out position on the sofa.

"You're like me," Rosalie said, walking toward her. "Except you're less considerate." She tapped Leah's leg. "Sit up. Make room."

I glanced at every face around me. They were all smiling, happy, and I thought there was no better way to celebrate Masen's first birthday.

"Oh!" My dad said, lifting his arms, revealing two white paper bags. "I brought dinner. Chinese. You all like Chinese?"

"I doubt anyone here can honestly answer that question," Emmett said. "It's unlikely any of us have tried authentic Chinese dishes, but what you've brought will be fine." He took the bags from my bewildered father, and headed for the kitchen. "Aside from the MSG."

"What?" my dad asked.

"Ignore it, Charlie," Edward said. "Any questions will only encourage him. Believe me, it's for your own good."

* * *

**A/N:** Review please. I'd like to know your thoughts on Bella's secret and/or what you think of Caius. (Any other thoughts you'd like to share are welcome, as well.) :)


	29. One

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

**A/N (please take a moment): **The livejournal community, lion_lamb, is currently holding an auction to raise funds for Haiti. I have offered up a one-shot, or outtake. Maybe you have a short story you'd like told, or have questions in this story you want answered. Maybe you'd like to get into Jasper's head (?!) or even find out what Alice and Jasper are up to at the moment. If so, head on over to lion_lamb and place your bid. Bidding starts at $2.00. I won't let this delay or affect upcoming updates to Not Without You. (The one-shot wouldn't take the place of an update.)

My auction offer (username odelay_bb): http:// community(dot)livejournal(dot)com/lion_lamb/6642881(dot)html?thread=262210241#t262210241

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 29: One

Esme's neatly coiffed bronze hair was barely through our front door when she snatched Masen from Edward's arms, leaving a deep rose lip stain on her son's cheek. She held Masen close and tight, as if she planned on never letting go, or was afraid someone might try to take him. Edward wiped his face.

"It's only been a few months, but it feels like years," Esme said, giving me a hug. Masen laughed as we squished him between us. He grabbed hold of my upper arm and gave it a pinch. I took his hand and kissed it.

"This is a great little place you have here, kids," Carlisle said, looking around. I'd dressed the living room in deep blue streamers, and Emmett had picked up some jewel-toned helium balloons, which now hung from the ceiling. Though they'd began the morning in different corners, inch-by-inch, they were drifting toward each other, as if they were trying to meet in the center. "It's bigger than our first apartment. Of course, we didn't live on campus."

"That's right," said Esme, still all smiles. "We rented a tiny studio. A shower curtain covered the bathroom area, and the kitchen wasn't much bigger than a closet."

"Yeah," Carlisle said. "Basically you turned around, and that was all you could do."

"Oh, God! Do you remember our bookshelf?"

"That old bamboo thing; it took up the entire wall." Carlisle laughed. "It even leaned to one side because it was too crammed with books." He held his hand up, slanted at an angle. "I'm still amazed it never collapsed. Whatever happened to that thing?" He brought a finger to his lips, wondering, as if it really mattered to him--as if he wished it well and hoped it ended up with a happy couple who could fix its tilt.

"What did you do back then, Esme?" I asked, guiding her to have a seat on the sofa.

"I worked at a daycare part time, and went to school part time."

Her answer left me with a certain emptiness inside. I nodded at my feet. Would I have felt better if she'd said she'd stayed home with Edward? Possibly. But as it was, I stared for a moment at my shoes, my fresh void filling with the growing familiarity of being boxed in by my own freedom. Everyone around me--though weighted with responsibilities of school or work, or both--experienced daily achievements. Even Masen was accomplishing something new each day. And while I felt fortunate for the opportunity to spend every waking hour with my baby, at the same time, I couldn't allow myself to fully indulge in it. I couldn't help but think of how brief and scarce Edward's free moments had become, and the few moments that he did find for himself were tailed with burdens of what he otherwise _should_ be doing. Even now, during Masen's party, Edward and I both knew he should be studying.

I looked into Esme's warm, green eyes. "What about Edward?" I asked. "Who took care of him?"

"Well, he came with me to the daycare. Because I was an employee, his tuition was free. Then, when I went to school at night, Carlisle had him. You see, Carlisle didn't go to school yet. He went after I completed my credential program. We knew how long a degree in medicine takes. I needed to be on my career track in order for us to make it work."

I looked up at Edward, who was avoiding eye contact with everyone, and his jaw looked tight. Something about our conversation had made him uneasy. I touched his arm and his gaze fell to me.

"What?" I mouthed.

He gave me his half-smile and shook his head.

"What can I do to help?" Esme asked. Masen was reaching for the ground; he wanted down, and I didn't miss Esme's disappointed expression as he squirmed and slid from her lap to the floor.

"Play with Masen. He can show you his new trick," I said. "All we have to do is set out the food."

I let them know that my family was expected any minute. Their hotel wasn't far, but they'd wanted to tour a bit of Palo Alto, and go out to breakfast before they came over.

* * *

Before Edward's parents had arrived, Rosalie, Emmett, and Edward had prepared sandwiches on square ciabatta rolls while I fed Masen breakfast in his highchair. It was an old metal highchair Edward and I had picked up at a local thrift shop. I'd disinfected its metal limbs and vinyl blue and white checked cushions at least four times before I ever placed my baby in it. He was insisting on feeding himself the scrambled eggs on his tray, even if most of them landed in his lap.

"Just let me give you one good spoonful," I said, but the only way he would let me was if I allowed him to guide my hand with the spoon to his mouth.

The pasta salad I'd shown Edward how to make the night before was marinating in its vinaigrette dressing, and topped with basil leaves, in the refrigerator behind me.

They made the sandwiches in an assembly-line along the smooth gray Formica counter to my right. Because Emmett was involved in this process, there were three types of meat in each sandwich.

"Emmett," Edward said. "Not everyone eats the way you do."

"Well, they should, shouldn't they? Look at me." He knocked Edward's shoulder, effortlessly forcing Edward off balance.

"No way," Rosalie said. "Not everyone has the metabolism you do."

"You know I work out," he said. "I don't excuse people who are too lazy to take care of themselves."

"I don't work out," I said. "Does that make me lazy?"

"Yeah, me too?" Rosalie asked.

"No, but you look great, love," Emmett said.

"Thanks," Rosalie and I said at the same time, and then exchanged a glance. Even though it had been a quick exchange, I looked closely at her eyes for a sign of insult or anger. I only saw amusement.

"You _both_ look beautiful. You two radiate beauty like you've been touched by Aphrodite. Fuck it. I've lost this one."

Rosalie laughed.

"Watch your language," I said, motioning to Masen.

"Damn, again!" he said. "And… again." He shook his head at himself, returning to his sandwich making.

"I'd give you a hard time about it," Edward said to Emmett, "if only I could learn to control my mouth around my own kid."

"You're getting better," I told him, and he smirked at me, knowing that if there had been any improvement, it was marginal.

"Make sure you cut them into triangles," Rosalie said.

"I'm not cutting them in dainty little shapes," Emmett said.

"It won't kill you," said Rosalie. "It won't make you any less of a man. Besides, if you can say the word 'dainty' you can do the dainty deed."

"On the contrary," he said. "A man's manhood comes from within--his confidence, the way he sees himself. So, from my point of view, yes, it will make me _less_ of a man."

Rosalie turned to him and glared. "Oh really?"

"I take that back. A man's manhood comes from the way his girlfriend sees him." He grabbed a knife from the wooden block of knives in front of him and began cutting the sandwiches in fourths.

"You didn't stand very firm in your statement, Emmett," I said, knowing I was stepping into something I may not be able to get myself out of.

"Love," he said, turning to me, his knife in hand. "If there's one thing you should have learned from me by now, it's that an argument has many sides."

"But she's right," Edward said. "You usually don't waver that easily." He slapped Emmett's back, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "Looks like you're losing your mind-wrestling touch, my man."

"Nah," he said, "I've never been able to beat Rosalie, and she knows it. Takes advantage of that fact."

Rosalie went over to Emmett and turned him around by his arm. "Emmett, you've beaten me once."

"When?" He set the knife on the counter, peering down at her.

"Last year. When I was convinced we both needed to move on--away from each other. You fought against me on that. You never gave up on me_, e_ven when I'd lost hope."

A rare moment of intimacy emanated between them. They most often saved these moments for private. It felt private then, too, but I couldn't look away.

Emmett brought his big hands to cup her face. "Rose, I couldn't have given up. It would never have worked… us apart."

"I know," she said. "You were right. You won."

"No." He shook his head. "That was absolutely not a mind-wrestle. There was no manipulation involved whatsoever. That was reality."

He kissed her, and I could finally look away. I turned my attention back to a messy-faced Masen. He was happy in his slop while I thought about the sponge bath he would be getting in about ten minutes.

I heard Emmett speaking low behind me. "_Love is of all passions the strongest, for it attacks simultaneously the head, the heart, and the senses_."

"That's beautiful," Rosalie said. "Who said it?"

"I did."

"Who said it before you?"

Emmett laughed. "Lau Tzu."

"You and your philosophers."

"You are my only reason to philosophize," he said.

"Wow," Rosalie whispered, seemingly knocked out of breath. "Coming from you, you may as well have said I'm your only reason to breathe."

"Exactly," he said, and it went silent again, until I heard the sounds of lips kissing.

I tilted my head to the right to look at Edward, giving him a small smile. He smiled back and nodded.

* * *

Our apartment was too cramped, even for our somewhat small party. Some of our guests, Sue and my dad included, spilled out the backdoor, into the courtyard.

Caius's wife, or ex-wife, rather, was thin with blue eyes, and a long skinny nose. There was a slight bump on it, only noticeable at certain angles, and despite that, she was very beautiful. Her hair, the light brown color of grass burnt by the sun, headed straight for her shoulders, making a blunt stop just as it touched her skin. The way it landed right at that spot, it seemed she'd dropped by her hairdresser's for a trim before coming to the party. I noticed thick concealer dabbed under her eyes to hide tired circles as she held her hand out to mine.

"You're Masen's mom?" She looked doubtful. The hem of her knee-length dress waved as she shook my hand--her handshake was _that_ firm. Her attire would have made me feel under-dressed, had Rosalie not been donning the same casual jeans and tee style as I wore.

"This is Bella," Caius said, Riley in his arms. I gave Riley a smile. "Bella, this is Andrea. Be sure to pronounce it correctly so you don't get on her nerves."

"_Aundraya_," I repeated, trying to lock the pronunciation in my brain. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm not really as bitchy as he makes me out to be," she said, whispering when she'd come to the word, 'bitchy."

"Well, I'm just as bitchy as everyone makes me out to be," Rosalie said, coming up behind me, and not whispering the word 'bitchy'. She gave Andrea a smile with a scrunch of her nose that reminded me of Alice.

Andrea nodded. "Are you a student here, Bella?" she asked.

"No, Edward is."

"What do you do?"

I glanced at Caius, who was lifting and replacing his ever-present baseball cap. I had yet to see him without it.

"I… take care of Masen."

"No, I meant what else do you do? Where do you work?"

"I don't work. Yet."

"What do you mean, 'yet'?" Rosalie asked, then addressed Andrea. "Bella is a good mother. What else does she _have_ to do?"

"What about you?" Andrea asked.

"I'm a student at Berkeley."

"Really?" Andrea smiled. "Berkeley was my second choice."

"Well, good for you," Rosalie said, as if she were humoring an eight-year-old. "Why don't you come on in and get a snack?" Of course, since the three of them had entered at the front door, they were pretty much as _in_ as they could get. So they took the few steps to the coffee table, where we'd arranged all of our prepared dishes.

"I'm sorry," Caius said, adjusting his cap again. "I told her about you. She knew the answers to those questions. She was just behaving that way because you're my friend, and now she sees that you're pretty, too."

I looked down, and I might have blushed. "It's fine. I've been dealing with that sort of thing since my junior year of high school."

I felt Edward behind me, and turned around. He was holding Masen--one of the few moments that Esme let our little one out of her arms--and I had the first chance to introduce Caius to Edward. I'd told Edward about Riley and his father, who we'd met at the arboretum, but they'd never had the opportunity to meet until today. Standing behind the sofa, near the closed front door, Edward and Caius tried to shake hands, but because each man was holding his baby in the opposite arm, their hands didn't line up correctly. They laughed it off.

"Can I get you or your wife anything?" Edward asked.

"I think Rosalie is already helping my _ex_-wife."

Edward raised his eyebrows. "Oh. I'm sorry, I wasn't aware..." Even looking away, I could feel Edward's eyes land on me. Had I not mentioned that to Edward? I'd told him that Riley's mom and dad were coming, but did I mention they weren't married? I mustn't have.

"Look who's here," I said to Masen, pointing out Riley. Masen was more enthralled with his two fingers in his mouth at the moment.

Edward was still stiff beside me, so I put an arm around his waist in an effort to relax him, but he only stiffened more. I let go.

After a short discussion of classes, Caius and Edward found common ground in a professor, who apparently never kept to the subject of the class--instead leading off-topic argument-causing discussions on current events or politics, better suited for Emmett than Edward. Emmett, in fact, entered the conversation on a wind of jealousy. He seemed to have radar for talks like these, and breezed right in.

"What did you say that professor's name was? I'm definitely registering for that class next semester."

"Irving," Caius said. "You're the guy Bella says I remind her of."

"He reminds you of Emmett?" Edward asked. The look on his face showed me he didn't agree, and I understood why. Appearance-wise, Caius and Emmett were near opposites. Caius wasn't as big as Edward, let alone Emmett, and his white hair was long compared to Emmett's very short dark hair.

"I meant his intellect," I said, which apparently wasn't any better from Edward's perspective.

"You think _he's_ as smart as Emmett?"

Was this jealousy? Was he threatened by someone who may be as smart or smarter than Emmett? Embarrassed by Edward's reaction, I glanced at Caius.

"I told you. Caius is a grad student, Edward, and he likes to talk about life and knowledge in the same grandiose ways Emmett does."

"_All right_," Emmett said with a smile. "I've been looking for someone to talk to. These guys shut me down as if they have nothing to learn from me."

"So, you and Caius have had a lot of conversations," Edward said to me. "Is 'grandiose' his word, or yours?"

Out of the corner of my widening eyes, I saw Caius reaching for his cap.

"Edward, can I talk to you for a minute?" I tugged on his elbow. "Alone."

We excused ourselves. Still carrying Masen, he followed me to our bedroom.

"What are you doing?" I asked once the door was closed.

"Do you think I was out of line?" He gave me the round eyes of an innocent, seeming to be in disbelief of the obvious.

"Yes! Why did you do that? I invited him, and you've made him uncomfortable. And 'grandiose' was _my_ word!" I folded my arms, realizing just then how much angrier that question of Edward's had made me than any other.

His fingers found his pockets. "I'm sorry, Bella I didn't mean you wouldn't use that word. But I heard him. He called you pretty."

"And you don't think I'm pretty?"

"Bella. What business does he have telling you you're pretty at our son's birthday party?"

"He was explaining his wife's behavior to me. He wasn't saying that he thought I was pretty, in particular. He was generalizing."

"His _ex_-wife, which, strangely, is a fact I didn't know. And you are particularly pretty, and I know he thinks it, and he knows that I know he thinks it."

"What?"

"He wants me to know he's attracted to you. He didn't stop talking when I came up, and he didn't lower his voice either. He saw me coming, and had the chance to shut up, but didn't."

"Maybe that's because he didn't mean anything by it, so he wasn't feeling guilty about what he was saying. Did that run through your mind at all?"

Edward looked at me, and bit his lip. Masen squirmed, having spent enough time cooped up in someone's arms, so Edward let him down.

"Bella." His fingers came slowly to my cheek. "It made you blush."

"You know I don't handle compliments well."

His hand on my cheek opened, his palm pressing lightly against my face, his eyes on mine.

"Edward, what do you want me to do?" My voice was calm. "Do you want me to not be friends with him?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying. Just… watch him, okay? Be aware."

"Are you done being jealous yet?"

"I don't know. Kiss me," he said.

"I don't want to."

He leaned forward and kissed my cheek, then whispered in my ear. "Yes, you do. Kiss me."

He brought his lips toward mine, stopping just before they touched.

"Kiss me," he said again, his breath mixing with mine. Unable to resist any longer, I kissed him. His arms came around my back, pressing me closer.

"I'll apologize to your friend," he said.

"Because you know I'm right?"

"Because you _might_ be right."

I held Masen's hand, and the three of us walked together toward Emmett and Caius. We were stopped by Esme, who snatched Masen back. Edward's apology to Caius sounded so sincere that I almost believed he meant it. But just as things seemed to smooth over and get comfortable between them, Edward asked Caius about work.

"That reminds me," Caius said, turning to me, "there'll be a position opening up around January. One of our student staff members will be transferring after the semester is over."

"Why would that matter to Bella?" Edward asked. "Why would you even feel it's necessary to mention that to her?"

Caius threw me a confused glance.

"No reason," he said.

Edward looked at me, too. "She already thinks she has to prove herself. She doesn't need other people insinuating that she should be working." He looked at Caius again. "She doesn't have to work at this point. She does enough caring for Masen."

"I didn't mean to suggest that-"

Edward, ignoring Caius, brought his forehead to mine. "The only thing you need to fill your mind with today is that a year ago, we were lying in a hospital bed together with our brand new baby."

I smiled.

"Who is now being kept from us by my own mother." He tilted my chin, his lips meeting mine.

"Edward," Carlisle said. "Fill me in on school." He threw a chip into his mouth, and then placed a hand on Edward's shoulder, guiding him toward the kitchen. Edward's hand held mine until neither of us could reach any longer. I supposed Carlisle was taking Edward to the courtyard.

"Bella," Caius said, leaning closer to me. "You didn't tell me that Edward wasn't aware you were looking for work."

I brought a hand to my head, feeling a headache developing. I would need some Tylenol before this party ended.

"That's because I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I'm so confused I can't even think straight."

"What's there to be confused about? What do you want to do?"

"You don't understand. Edward and I have talked about this, like, a million times. I've convinced him, like I convinced myself, that things are exactly the way I want them."

"But they're not?"

"I thought they were. I'm sure they are. I-I don't know. I do know that this tennis match in my mind--college or work, college or work--it's not fair to Edward. I can't talk to him about it until I know for sure what I want to do."

"As an outsider observing, it's clear that as much as he dislikes me, he cares a hell of a lot about you. I think you should talk to him."

"You do?" I brought my voice to a whisper. "The thing is, if I tell him I've been considering attending college earlier than planned, he would give up Stanford if that's what he thought it took to get me there. He's said as much in the past. I have to be completely sure of any decision I make and know that we can pull it off before I mention anything to him. Because the last thing I would allow to happen is for him to lose this opportunity."

"The dude would give up Stanford?"

"Yes, and he very nearly did so in the past. He wouldn't give it up because he's stupid; he'd do it because he always puts me first. So don't call him 'the dude.'"

Caius laughed. "Look, I'm the last person who should be giving relationship advice. I can't even make my own work."

Rosalie's hand shot in front of me with a glass of water.

"You look parched," she said, "and not a little stressed out. Relax, _love_, it's your baby's party." She smiled. "Why are you two all intense and whispering in the corner?"

"We were just talking about…"

"Life," Caius finished. "Rosalie, is it?" She nodded.

"Would you do me a favor?"

"Depends on what it is."

"Ask my wife, I mean, my ex-wife, what it is she does for a living."

"Why?"

"I think her answer will interest you. Both of you."

Rosalie took me by the hand around the sofa, where Andrea was sitting, Riley on her lap, trying to get him to bite into a sandwich, while saying to Emmett, "You're very opinionated, aren't you?"

"Of course," he said. "Isn't everybody?"

"I wouldn't say that. I've met some pret-ty mindless people."

"Just because certain people choose not to open their minds to you, doesn't mean they don't have thoughts." He nodded as though he'd made an unarguable point, and that was as far as the conversation needed to extend.

"Andrea," Rosalie said, purposely mispronouncing it. I elbowed her in the side. "May I get you anything to drink?"

"No thank you. But Bella, Edward sure is a drink of water, isn't he?"

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I had no idea what to say to that.

Rosalie did, however.

"Edward?" she said. "He's Dom Perignon served in a crystal flute, but only Bella gets a sip of that." She sat down next to Andrea.

Emmett laughed. "Okay, this is where I make my exit."

"So," Rosalie continued, her attention remaining on Andrea. "You never shared with us what you do."

"Oh, I haven't mentioned it?" I caught her throw a glance over Rosalie's shoulder at Caius.

"No, you haven't," Rosalie said. "Right, Bella?"

"I don't think so," I said, a bit hesitant, not sure this was something I wanted to be in the middle of.

"I work at the AM/PM" she said, averting her eyes to her son, who finally took a bite.

"The gas station?" Rosalie asked, as if she was unsure.

"The mini-mart," Andrea said, still avoiding eye-contact.

"But aren't you a Stanford graduate?"

"It-it's the economy," she said. "This isn't an easy time for anyone." She gave Rosalie what appeared to be a forced smile, her lips forming a thin line across her face. Then she stood up with her baby, and left the apartment the same way she'd come in.

Caius was smiling in his spot at the end of the sofa.

"What did you put us up to?" I asked.

"Come on," he said. "You know she deserved it after the hard time she gave both of you. Besides, it's not as bad as you think."

Rosalie laughed. "I like you," she said to Caius. "She did deserve it, Bella. Stop being so damn nice. Take some lessons from your younger sister over there." She pointed to Leah, standing with Seth in front of the kitchen entrance. They seemed to be involved in a disagreement--Leah frowning, and Seth wearing his usual amused expression.

"She's not my sister," I said, because I had nothing else to say.

Maybe I did need to stop being so nice. Andrea had, after all, put me on the spot with the sole purpose of insulting me--making a joke of me with my own words. Why should I worry about her feelings? I had enough of my own troubles to worry about. I thought all this, while at the same time wondering if everything was okay with Andrea.

"Bella, Rosalie," Caius said. "She doesn't work at the AM/PM because she can't get a job. She works there purposely, because she's afraid that if she makes more money than I do, I'll claim child support. Which, I must add, I would never do, but she can't seem to understand that not everyone thinks the way she does." Despite having said that, he still went out after Andrea, saying he'd be right back.

* * *

We all crammed ourselves into the narrow kitchen, watching Masen as he made a mess all over himself with his miniature cake. Chocolate covered his mouth like a thick clown smile while camera flashes came at him from all angles. He smiled and laughed and the rest of us laughed with him, until as suddenly as he'd begun laughing, he started crying. He sobbed, his little mouth open and turned down, his screaming voice going hoarse. I rushed to him, trying to get him out of the high chair as fast as I could, paying no mind to the chocolate that was rubbing off his face and onto my shirt. I struggled with the old lap lock that always seemed to stick.

"I'll do it. I'll do it," Edward said.

Finally free from his trap of a chair, I drew Masen's head close to my shoulder, swaying him a bit while he screamed into my ear. Edward, his hand at my back, followed me to our room. He left me there to get a wet cloth to wipe Masen's face.

"What happened?" he asked as Masen finally calmed down enough to nurse.

"I don't know. Maybe all the laughing was too loud for him, or maybe he's overly tired. I can understand that," I said, yawning.

"Maybe both," Edward said.

Masen, eyes closed, shuddering with small after-sobs, brought his fingers to the ends of my hair, twirling it like he'd done since he was about four months old.

Edward sat next to us, his fingers twirling the ends of my hair at my back.

"Bella?" he said. "Why didn't you tell me that Caius was divorced?"

"This again?"

"It seems that way, doesn't it? So why? You must have known."

"I don't know. I didn't purposely keep it from you. It just didn't come up, I guess. It wasn't on my mind. Just like I didn't say he had white hair and wore shirts with marijuana leaves on them."

"What?"

"Well, he says it represents hemp."

Edward scoffed. "And you do see him a lot?"

"Edward," I looked up at him. "We end up at the arboretum at the same time everyday. I take Masen there after his morning nap, and we have lunch and play. It happens to be the same time that Caius has a break in classes and does the same with his son when he has him. It's not like we're meeting privately. Lots of people are around."

"I'm not accusing you of anything, Bella. I just want to be informed."

"Okay, sure. What else do you want to know?"

"Why did he talk to you about a job?"

I closed my eyes. Masen had long since finished nursing and had fallen asleep, and I was well aware that we'd rudely abandoned our guests, but they would just have to wait longer. I brought Masen's face to Edward so he could kiss him before I laid him in his crib behind the screen.

When I returned to the bed, Edward was looking at me quietly, but expectantly.

"You've been thinking about this all day?" I asked.

"Yep."

"Why have you been so sweet to me, then?"

"Partly because it's Masen's birthday, and partly because I know how your mind works. You like to pretend that everything is wonderful and beautiful when it might not be."

"Edward…"

"Bella. You haven't answered my question."

"I told him I might want to work." I shrugged. "He helped me get Masen on the waiting list at the campus daycare where Riley goes."

Edward gave me a slow blink. "And you've kept this from me because…"

My throat was sore. My insides felt noosed. I wasn't ready to have this discussion with Edward. I rubbed my forehead. "Because I haven't made a decision about it yet. I only added Masen to the list because it's so long, and when an availability opens up, maybe we'd be in a position where we needed it."

He stood up and walked past me and around Masen's screen. When he came back he said, "Isn't Masen _our_ baby? Shouldn't daycare be a step I should have involvement in?" The quiet in his voice did not hide his anger.

I nodded. "Yes, it is."

"Okay… Bella?" He raked a quick, heavy hand through his hair. "I'm trying _really_ hard to understand this."

"Edward, I didn't sign Masen up. I only put his name on the list because… who knows? I might be able to help you out. Free up some of your time."

His eyebrows tensed in thought, then his face softened as he took my hand. "Bella, you don't have to feel the _need_ to help me out. I know you don't want to be away from Masen all day. You said so yourself, that you would wait until he was a little older. The way we're doing things… they're working. Don't you think it's working?"

I shrugged again.

"Is this because people expect you to work? Is that why you're feeling this way? Expectations?"

"I don't know, Edward. You go to school all day then work, while I stay with Masen. What are people supposed to expect? What should I be doing? I mean, really, what is the right thing?" My eyes burned, but I held my tears back.

"Love, societal issues aside, the right thing is what feels right to you. Only you can answer that question. But I don't want you going out and getting a job just because other people who have nothing to do with us expect it."

"I'm just… I'm stuck."

He sat on the edge of the bed, not letting go of my hand.

"Stuck here?" He pointed at the floor, his eyes intense on mine.

"No." I shook my head quickly and squeezed his hand. I hadn't meant to give him that impression. "Stuck in mind. It's like my brain is having constant battles. What I think is right one moment, is completely wrong the next. I just wanted my head to clear some before I brought it up. I honestly don't have any answers."

"Do you want my opinion?"

"Of course."

"No, not 'of course.' If the answer was 'of course,' you would have asked me sooner."

"I want your opinion, Edward."

"I think that what you're doing now is right. Spending time with Masen. He's thriving. He's so happy and attached to you, and you get to see everything. You'll regret it if you give up your experiences with Masen to someone else. You have no idea what it feels like to miss so much."

If that was his argument to keep me from wanting to free up some of his time, it was entirely the wrong way to go. I was reminded of a conversation I'd had with Rosalie over a year ago. She'd warned me about Edward and I losing too much of ourselves in giving to the other. How much of Edward's self had he lost by giving me freedom?

"Edward, are you mad at me for asking Caius about a job or adding Masen to the waiting list?"

"I'm disappointed that you didn't talk to me about it, but I'm not mad."

"Okay, then can we postpone this conversation, because right now is not the time."

He nodded. I knew he was thinking that I'd meant now was not the time because of the party guests we had waiting for us, while I'd actually meant I still wasn't ready to talk about it.

He started to get up.

"Wait," I said. "It's your turn."

"For what?"

"What were you thinking when your parents were talking about their early married life? You know, when they were talking about school. I saw your reaction."

"Honestly?"

"Always."

"I was thinking about how my dad stepped aside so my mom could finish college first. I'm failing you in that area. I'm taking for myself first. That's why my chest fucking clenched a minute ago when you said you were stuck."

I stepped back and looked down into his eyes, rubbing my hand along the scruff on his jaw.

"You're not _taking_ anything. All you're doing is accepting a rare opportunity that otherwise may never offer itself again. And you are absolutely not failing me. The only way you could fail me is if you gave up on yourself. Don't do that. I want you to promise me right now that you won't give up Stanford. Ever. No matter what."

"I can't promise, 'no matter what.' I don't know what the future holds."

"Well, promise that you won't give it up for me, then."

"I would give up anything for you."

I sighed. "Edward, you're not helping. Okay, let me change the wording. I don't want you to, and I will _never_ want you to, give up on Stanford for me or anyone else. So please, for me, promise that you won't turn your back on Stanford."

He smiled. "I promise."

"There," I said, touching his lips. He kissed my finger. "You did it." I sank to his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck and resting my head on his shoulder, releasing as much tension as my body would allow.

"This learning as you go thing is hard."

"It is. But everybody does it." He rubbed my back. "We all learn as we go."

"Edward, you know I love you and I want to be here with you, don't you?"

"I know, Bella."

Edward returned to the party before me. I asked him to give me a moment, and then I removed the college application forms from my panty drawer and threw them away.

* * *

**A/N**: Review please. :) I loved reading your thoughts last time. (So many different perspectives.) It was great!

myimm0rtal has set up a _Not Without You_ discussion thread at Twillighted(dot)net

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	30. Fragments

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

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This chapter is dedicated to TULIPP.

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 30: Fragments

Sunday brought the kind of silence you could feel. It was palpable. You could touch it. I touched it in the streamers I pulled from the walls that afternoon. Esme and Carlisle departed--with reluctance--late the night before, and my dad, Sue, Leah, and Seth left that morning, only dropping in for a quick goodbye.

Refusing to get dressed, wanting only to lounge around with Edward and Masen for the day before Edward left for work, I was still in my pajamas. Everyone else was dressed, including Masen--Edward had dressed him.

Edward was on the sofa, typing away at his laptop, Masen was down for his afternoon nap, and Rosalie and Emmett were finishing the clean up in the kitchen--or so I thought. I was cursing at the piece of tape that stuck to the ceiling when I'd pulled the last streamer down.

Emmett and Rose surprised me by emerging from Emmett's bedroom, Rosalie's weekend bag hanging heavily from her shoulder. She stood at a slant, and Emmett took it from her.

"Stay tonight, beautiful Rose. Leave early in the morning."

"You can't be serious." She grabbed back for her bag, but he held it away.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"There's no way I can leave in the morning. Something could go wrong and I'd miss class."

"Nothing's going to go wrong."

"Emmett, don't you think I know how wrong things can go?"

He was silent.

"Give me my bag. I'm going now."

"Now? It's only three. Why would you leave now?"

"Because I don't want you to tempt me into staying."

"Excuse me for wanting to spend as much time as possible with you. I thought girls liked that shit. Bella does."

I cringed when I heard my name, balled up the streamer, and went to Edward.

"I'm not Bella," Rosalie said.

I kissed Edward. "Let's go to our room," I whispered, pulling on his arm with both hands.

Edward nodded, then took my hand. "Wait, wait," he whispered. "Lips."

I kissed him again before we silently gathered his books.

"If you want me until Monday morning," Rosalie said, "then you come and visit me at Berkeley!"

"No problem. I'll go there next weekend."

"No!"

"No? Why don't you mess with me some more?!"

"You know we can't be alone there with my roommate always around."

"Fuck, Rose. What the fuck do you want?!"

"I want to leave… _now_!"

I closed our bedroom door watching Edward--still quiet, as though he might disturb Rosalie and Emmett--set his laptop on the desk. I dropped his books on the chair. The sun shone through the open window in front of us. The breeze was cool, so I shut the window to keep the chill off Masen.

"Why are they arguing?" I asked. "Yesterday they were more in love than I've ever seen them."

"I don't know," Edward said. "I heard them earlier, too, when you were nursing Mase."

His hands were in his pockets, leaving just enough space between his arms and his body for me to reach through and clasp my hands behind his back.

"Something's happening," I said. "It doesn't feel good. I hope we all end up okay."

He kissed my head, his hands out of his pockets and around me. "You and I will be fine. Don't even concern yourself with that. Maybe Emmett and Rosalie are going through something, but that has nothing to do with us."

"You don't think anything is different between us?"

"Things are different around us, but we're not. You and I are the same. Do you feel differently about me?"

"No, I could never. But something feels like it's changed. I can't explain it."

"What is it? Try to explain."

_I can't talk to you like I used to_, I wanted to say. But I couldn't. It wasn't his fault; it was mine, and I had to get over it.

He brought me by the hand to the bed and we sat together.

"Maybe if we talk about it, I can help you figure it out."

"Okay."

I turned to face him, lifting a leg up to rest on the bed. His hand came to my knee, and I closed my eyes at his touch. How much of what was on my mind could I share without hurting him or making him feel guilty? I opened my mouth, not completely sure about what might come out.

"I feel… I feel kind of outside of things." I picked up his hand in both of mine and played with his fingers. "Everyone here has something in common--similar goals, and I'm just the same old me."

It was the best I could do, and as it came out of my mouth it sounded self-centered and a bit 'woe is me,' and I wanted to take it back. I dropped his hand.

"And, don't get mad, but the only person I've met and have anything in common with is Caius, and you don't like him."

He looked away from me for a minute, and I thought I'd gone too far bringing Caius into this, especially after what had happened the day before. But it was done.

"I don't know Caius, and I don't trust any single guy who just wants to be friends with a girl--my girl."

"Is it impossible? Before me, you were single and friends with Alice, and best friends with Rosalie. You said you've never had romantic feelings for Rosalie, so it's possible to be just friends, isn't it?"

"It's possible. What is it, other than Riley, that you have in common with him?"

"He reminds me of Emmett and Jasper. He's familiar."

"Does he remind you of me?"

"Only you're you." I brought my hand to his chest. "But Caius doesn't talk down to me like Andrea did. And he makes me comfortable by keeping his distance. He doesn't flirt with me or hit on me."

"He doesn't?"

I shook my head.

"Bella, it's so strange talking to you about another guy. I don't even know what to say. Am I supposed to give you my blessing to be friends with the guy?"

I looked away. I shouldn't have said anything. I should have kept all my thoughts to myself and agreed that everything was exactly the same.

"Forget I said anything. You should finish your homework. You have to go to work in an hour." I stood to leave him alone, wondering if Rosalie had left or not.

"Bella?"

I turned.

"I don't want you to feel alone or like an outcast. If you want to continue your friendship with Caius, I trust you, and I trust your judgment."

So, was this Edward giving me his _blessing_? I was about to exit the room, after having opened up to Edward, with a more sour taste in my mouth than when we'd entered.

"The only place I run into him is at the arboretum. I'm going to stay away for a while."

I entered the empty living room feeling a bit empty myself. I didn't know what was happening, and as out of control as I felt about it, I also felt this overwhelming need to reverse it. Like my dad's worm-hooked fishing line trailing deep in blurry waters luring fish, I dredged through the depths of myself searching for the Bella I used to be. And like the forest-edge reflected in the glassy water, if I'd checked the mirror, I'd see the edge of Bella reflected in my own eyes. Beyond my reflection, there was so much I didn't know or recognize anymore. I longed for my old self--the me who joked easily, who took life however it came--whether folded neatly or piled high--and who was sure of herself.

How had I, at nineteen, become less certain of who I was than I'd been at seventeen? The decisions I'd made since confirming my pregnancy, I'd made with the idea that they were for the best. But I'd never paused to question whether my idea of what was important and safe was the same as what I'd wanted. Was I now drifting along like that fishing line trolling behind the boat--just waiting for a fish to bite? What if a fish never bit? What if my line got tangled and snagged?

Still in the same spot directly outside our bedroom door, I took a deep breath and lifted my head to the ceiling. My eyes were drawn to that one piece of tape, halfway on and halfway off the ceiling. I knew how that tape felt. It needed to be pushed up or pulled down, but it couldn't remain like it was.

Emmett walked in from the kitchen, his head down.

"Rosalie left?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Are you guys okay?"

"Did we decide to stop fighting? Yes. Did we clear the air? No."

"I understand exactly what you mean."

"I've got to get out. I'm going to play poker with the guys, so don't worry about me for dinner."

"Sure, but before you go, could you get that piece of tape down?" I pointed to it. "It's driving me crazy."

Edward opened the bedroom door.

"Bella," he said, and tugged on my hand, pulling me into our room, shutting the door behind us. He held the sides of my face and backed me against the wall. His eyes were damp.

"You're right, something feels different. But it doesn't have to be a negative thing, okay? Whatever it is, we'll figure it out; we'll work through it." He kissed me. "Just don't close up on me." He kissed me some more, and I kissed him back.

"Edward..." I said when his lips slid down my neck, but it was all I could get out before Masen began his whimpers.

* * *

As Masen grew stronger on his feet, his legs took him everywhere, and fast. I could hardly keep up with him before he got into something. He'd become known to pull every book off the shelf in the living room, and lose the television remote on a daily basis. He had lost interest in his toys as the entire apartment became his new plaything. He'd pull leaves off Rosalie's plants and try to eat them, then dig his fingers through the dirt. I had to clean it out from under his fingernails.

Needless to say, it had become difficult for me to complete any task while he was awake. Parents... we'd spend so much time wishing for and encouraging our babies to walk. It would seem to take forever to finally happen, and then suddenly, the child is everywhere at once, non-stop. Would there never be a quiet, calm, still moment again? Were those days gone? I hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye.

And the mess of the apartment was getting on my nerves. While Masen napped in the afternoons, I had two choices: clean the apartment, or rest with him. I chose the former. One area I made sure to clean first was the bathroom. It wasn't easy to keep that room clean living with two college boys. In fact, I was beginning to realize that those two guys and my baby were making my endeavor for a clean apartment a near impossible feat. I was fighting against exhaustion through most of the day.

On Fridays, before Rosalie would come to visit, Emmett would help me because if the place was a mess when she arrived, she'd rip into him and possibly withhold sex. The withholding of sex was my theory because I couldn't think of any other reason why Emmett would help me enthusiastically on Fridays, but couldn't be bothered to remove his dirty socks from the living room throughout the rest of the week. That was where I drew the line. I left his socks there on Wednesday. I left Edward and Emmett's late study session mess from the night before in the living room, and I left the dishes in the sink or on the counters or the table. I only cleaned up after myself and Masen that day because I had a point to prove, and I forced myself to remain awake until 10:00 pm to announce it.

Edward was on the sofa reading, and Emmett was in a chair working on his laptop.

"Does the apartment look any different to you guys? Something seems different." I stood opposite Edward, the disgusting coffee table between us, and I tapped my chin.

They both looked around the room, and there was no way they could miss the glasses--some half full of soda or water--and the bags of chips they were snacking on earlier, and, of course, the socks on the floor next to Emmett's bare feet. Three pairs of shoes, one pair belonging to each of us. And they had to remember how the kitchen hadn't been cleaned all day.

"It's a mess," they both said.

"Hmm, I wonder how that could be. I distinctly remember putting away my things and cleaning my dishes today. All Masen's toys are put away, too."

Edward and Emmett exchanged glances before Emmett made room on the coffee table for his laptop. He set it down and sat back in his chair at attention.

"I know you're both busy with studies and Edward, you go to work, but would it really kill either one of you to clean a dish or a pot or a pan once in a while? I can't continue to do all of it. And Emmett, I will do your laundry if that's what you want, but I will not continue to pick up your dirty socks at the beginning of every morning. That isn't the sort of thing a person wants to wake up to. Don't you have a hamper in your room?"

Edward leaned forward, arms resting on his knees, and frowned up at me.

"Bella, you're not doing his laundry. Have you been doing his laundry?"

"Sometimes she does," Emmett said. "I don't ask her to. She tells me she's doing a load and asks me if I have anything to throw in. I just happen to have something for her every time."

"Sit down, Bella." Edward held an arm out for me, and I rounded the table to sink against him, my head on his shoulder. "Is this why you're so tired at night?"

"Look around, Edward. If I don't clean up all day long, this is what it looks like after just twelve hours. My baby is _not_ going to live in squalor."

"_Our_ baby. Okay, we'll help out, won't we Emmett?"

He gave a nod.

"Bella does most of the cooking, so we can help with the dishes, can't we?"

He gave another nod.

"And if we're doing laundry, we can ask Bella if _she_ has anything to add, right?"

Emmett laughed. "This is how you two handle problems? This is genius. Rosalie would have just reamed me until I did what she wanted. Sure, B, I'll help out. No problem."

He was still laughing. I couldn't be sure if he was laughing because of our non-argument or if he was laughing because he didn't really intend to help. I was too tired to talk about it anymore anyway, and I put my head back on Edward's shoulder. He lifted his book to read, and I watched the words blur in front of me.

Emmett stood up and started clearing the glasses and chip bags from the table. In the kitchen I heard him run the water, and then the sound of ceramic hitting and scraping each other. He was doing the dishes. I looked at Edward, who was smiling at me.

"Do you think this will last longer than one night?" I asked

"Probably not. But I'll remind him and I'll help, too. Why didn't you say anything before?"

"Because I was trying to do it all. I thought it was the least I could do."

"Why would you think that?"

"You know why."

"We pay rent, Bella. Don't overexert yourself out of a false sense of obligation." He looked at me for a bit longer than necessary and frowned.

I held back from reminding him that _we_ didn't pay the rent, he did. I didn't have to say it anyway; he knew me too well.

"Bella. You've always had this aversion to feeling worthy or something. You can't seem to accept help. I don't know. Maybe it's because you were raised by a single mother, so you think you have to do everything, too. You need to learn that you and I are an us. We are _us_." He took my hand. "It's okay to be dependent on someone else. I'm dependent on you, too. I depend on you to take care of our son, yourself, me. You can depend on me, and it won't make you any less strong. You have to stop seeing shared dependence as a fault."

"I know. I'll work on it, Edward. I know you hate that about me."

"That's not true. I don't hate anything about you. But sometimes that part gets on my nerves." He laughed.

I brought my hand around him, and pulled on his shirt at his waist to get myself closer, my head falling to his chest. I lifted the book that was still in his hand.

"Go ahead. Study. I'm going to sleep right here until you're done."

Ever since Edward had begun work, I actually saw Emmett more than Edward. Aside from Emmett's absence once a week for his poker games, the other four evenings, it was Emmett, Masen, and me eating dinner together. Emmett's humor was my only distraction from missing Edward, and my feelings of inadequacy, which had proven themselves a constant battle. Even though Edward and Emmett were helping around the apartment more, energy was still a fight for me, especially in the evenings, as I often fell asleep with Masen on my chest after his final feeding of the day. I'd wake in the night--Edward quiet next to me, Masen in his crib behind his screen--unable to return to sleep. My thoughts would race then, as if I could answer every question at 3:00 am, if only I thought hard enough.

The second Wednesday after Masen's birthday, I prepared mandarin orange chicken, a recipe I found on the internet. As tasty as I thought it was, I couldn't take more than a few bites before feeling full. I toyed with my fork, making the chicken chase a mandarin slice. Then I took that bit of mandarin and placed it among the others on Masen's highchair tray.

"Da da da da," he repeated, before shoving the small bite into his mouth.

"I know, baby," I said. "I miss him, too."

"So do I," Emmett said, trying to lighten the mood. "I don't know what I'm going to do with myself until my Edward gets home." He clasped his hands and blinked his eyelashes, as if that was just what girls looked liked without their men.

I laughed, and decided that changing the subject was a good idea.

"Emmett, why do you have an affinity for mind-wrestling?"

His goofy face fell serious. "No one's ever asked me that before," he said, his full fork pausing in the air. "It's not an affinity, though. It's not something I simply like or feel drawn to do. It's as much a part of me as my arm. You can't cure me of it."

"Okay, but where does it come from?"

"Since I was about five years old, my father used to have me pick a subject and we'd each choose a side to argue. It began simple--colors, for instance. Which color had the most uses, things like that. As I got older, the arguments got heavier. I never wanted to lose. It made me cry to lose, so when my friends were reading comic books, I was reading news periodicals to keep up on current and past events. My father once told me that true knowledge isn't just knowing about a particular subject, but it's about learning and understanding all sides of the subject. Knowing enough about it to argue any side--whether you believe it or not. He claims that's the only way to truly form an opinion--one you can stand behind."

"Did you ever argue that with him?"

"Many times. I argued that if you knew enough about all sides your opinion could blur, become gray. Kind of like when an attorney litigates a case he doesn't really believe in. He gives a solid, well-planned argument for a winning outcome, but his true opinion is lost. It wouldn't surprise me if those attorneys don't somehow confuse what they really think with what they pretend to think during a case. My dad's a lawyer and he says no. He says he always remembers himself. I disagree, though. I just don't see how you can lie that deeply and not lie to yourself a little to pull it off."

"That makes sense. I've come to the conclusion that we all lie to ourselves in some way."

"You know? I agree. And it's either one of the biggest flaws in human nature, or one of the most generous attributes."

"Maybe it's both, depending on how you look at it."

He pointed at me with his fork. "You would have done well growing up in my household."

"I don't think so," I said.

"Maybe not. You demand answers to your questions. My dad doesn't answer questions."

"What does that mean?"

"I used to ask my dad questions, and he'd tell me that anything I wanted to know, I could research. Then he said to be careful about which answers I accepted as the only answer because, more than likely, it was merely one of several answers. He'd follow up, too. Throw the original question back at me later and ask what I found out. Then, sometimes we'd mind-wrestle over it."

"Did he coin the term 'mind-wrestle'?"

"Nah. That was Jasper. He said that most guys my size want to arm wrestle, and what do I insist on doing? Mind-wrestling. It stuck because I thought it was brilliant."

He motioned to my nearly full plate. "You didn't eat much. Don't you like it?"

I looked at his empty plate. "I'm full."

"How is that possible?"

My fork clunked to my plate as I let go of it and sat back in my chair. "I can't eat it. I love to cook, but when it's sitting in front of me, I lose my appetite."

"But I've seen you eat before. You can eat."

"I know. This is new for me."

"How long?"

"Pretty much since we moved here. I figure it's the Freshman fifteen. Most people gain fifteen. I lose it. It's only logical that I'd do things differently."

Emmett stared at me, taking a drink of his beer without breaking his gaze. I'd been with him when he purchased that case of beer. Every time we grocery shopped together, he attempted to purchase a case. Sometimes his size helped him slip by un-carded. Other times he made the embarrassing excuse that he'd left his ID in the car, saying he'd pick it up next time, but we'd just get the other groceries for now. Of course his wallet miraculously appeared from his pocket once the bill was rung up.

"Is everything all right with you?" Emmett asked.

"Yeah, fine."

"Maybe there's something, you know, that you can't talk to Edward about. But you do have me, if you want to talk."

I shook my head. "I can't. If I can't tell Edward, I can't tell anybody. I've already made that mistake."

"What mistake?"

"With Caius."

"You mean about the job?"

"How did you know?"

"B, how much time would you say you spend with Edward during the week?"

I thought for a minute. On work days, he'd come home from school and study for a couple of hours before leaving again. During that time, he'd often hold Masen on his lap and read to him from whichever text book he was working on at the moment, just to get some time with his son. Once Masen would begin to get restless, Edward would allot some time for the three of us to play with Masen's blocks on the floor, or go out to the small courtyard for some fresh air.

"About an hour," I said. "If I'm awake when he gets home from work, then… two hours." My eyes began to fill with tears and I shut them tight.

"Right. And do you think within those one or two hours that you see him, he tells you about every conversation he's had or every thought he's had?"

I opened my eyes. "That would be impossible."

"Exactly, and that's what I told him about you."

"When did you talk to him? What did he say to you?"

"When we're both up late studying, sometimes we talk. But if I told you what he says to me, then you wouldn't trust me with anything, would you?"

"I don't like this." I shook my head, looked at Masen and handed him his sippy cup, then turned back to Emmett. "Well, tell me if it was good or bad?"

"It's just talk, love. Conversations. You can converse with me. Believe me, there are things I can't tell Rosalie. It's not a sin."

I frowned at him. "What can't you tell her?"

"How about that every time I argue with her, I have to let her win in the end because I'm scared shitless she might walk out that door-" he pointed toward the back door "-and never walk back in."

"Emmett, you can tell her that. She'd want to hear that."

"No, I can't. The fucking words won't leave my mouth. The last thing I want her to view me as is pathetic."

I couldn't chastise him for saying 'fuck' in front of Masen this time. Not when he was confiding in me.

"I can tell you that 'pathetic' is the very last thing you are."

"You think that about me because you're not in my head."

I nodded, understanding that perfectly, and thanking God that nobody was in my head.

"I guess we all have our insecurities. Even you." Something about Emmett sharing that part of himself with me made me feel better. He always seemed to be so strong and sure of himself. It was refreshing to know that he was only human, too.

"Are you and Rosalie doing okay?"

"Sometimes."

"And the other times?"

"Not so good. The distance is fucking with us big time. We know our time together is short and we want to make the best of it, but the stress of that makes it worse. I don't know what we're going to do. Three more years of this. We've got to find a better way."

"What can you do?"

"I don't know. Something."

"Yeah," I nodded, "something."

I stood up, scraped a bit more food off my own plate onto Masen's tray, then walked to the sink and rinsed. Emmett helped me with the dishes while Masen ate or threw food on the floor. I looked over at him, Masen smiling widely every time he tossed some chicken to the floor. His near constant happiness told me that Edward and I were doing something right. Something.

I was asleep before Edward came home that night. I tried my hardest to stay awake, even jerking alert when my eyes closed on their own. Sleep won.

I had no idea what time it was when I awoke cold under the covers. I scooted closer to Edward and tried to drape his arm around me, but it just hung there loose, doing nothing to warm me. I shivered.

"Edward?"

He didn't move.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?" he said, his eyes closed.

"I'm cold. Put your arms around me."

He opened his eyes. "You're cold?" His voice was thick and groggy. "It's hot. You okay?" He pulled me close against his warm chest, both of his arms around me. I snuggled into his shoulder.

"I'm better now."

He gave my forehead a sleepy kiss. "Night, Bel…"

I felt his warm heavy breath on my forehead, and closed my eyes.

"I miss you," I said, but his breathing had already fallen into the deep, melodic rhythm of sleep.

In the morning I was cold again, and alone. It was the first time since our move that Edward and I had awoken before Masen. I peered around the white room divider to see my little son sleeping sound, two fingers in his mouth. I pulled a bath towel from our closet, then left the room to find Emmett, already dressed and ready for school, hunched over his laptop on the sofa.

"Will you listen for Masen?" I asked, and not bothering to wait for Emmett's answer, I entered the bathroom, in between our bedroom and Emmett's. Any noise I made was diluted by the spray of the water. Edward hadn't heard me enter. I removed his T-shirt from my body and then dropped my panties to the floor. Sliding the glass door aside, I stepped in.

"Hey, love" he said, smiling and bringing me into his arms against his wet skin. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tight. "You should join me every morning."

I gave a silent nod.

His hands came to the sides of my head, and he gently tilted my face back so the water fell over my hair. His fingers followed the water's path from the top of my forehead to my back, and he kissed my lips.

"How long do you have?" I asked, having yet to give the clock a glance.

"Ten or fifteen minutes. Why?"

"Just wondering. I wish you could stay."

He blinked down at me, water drops on his eyelashes. "Do you want me to skip class?" he asked, his tone sounding part astonished, and part willing.

I did want him to skip, but no way would I ask him to do that. He needed to keep up his grade point average for his scholarship, if nothing else.

"No. I'm only wishing."

"This weekend is my weekend off. We'll spend every minute of it together. I promise."

I looked up at him, brought my hand to his neck, then felt down his chest, over his firm abs, and lower.

"Hand me the soap," I said, still looking at him.

He was returning my gaze and didn't look away as he placed the soap in my free hand. The hot water poured over my back as I lathered up my hands, then cleansed his chest, my hands following the identical path they took a moment ago, down beneath his stomach, and I wrapped my fingers around him, giving him soft, slippery strokes. His mouth opened with a deep exhale as his eyes closed. He reached for the tile wall behind me, holding himself up, his head dropping below his shoulders with a groan.

"Bella."

Listening to his breathing turn to panting, I tightened my hold on him, quickening the pace of my hand as it slid back and forth. I could feel him swelling even more in my hand as he reached his edged, and I lifted my face to kiss him. I wondered what his plunge felt like when he was sent over that edge. Was it bright and white like mine? Or was it full of colors, or dark?

His mouth froze on mine, lips parted, but I continued the kisses as he moaned through his release. I didn't stop my hand until he was completely empty.

"I think you're clean," I said, and his head fell against mine as he laughed, holding himself up against the tile with both arms now, blocking me in.

"I can barely stand," he said. "Only you could render my legs useless." He kissed me, and as he gained his strength back, he let go of the wall with one hand to hold my neck, then slid his hand down my chest. "You?"

I shook my head. "There's not enough time."

His knuckles were tender over my breast and I swallowed.

"Between classes at ten?" he asked.

"Masen will be up."

He kissed down my throat while his fingers still teased my breast.

"Tonight, though," I breathed. "I'll stay awake for you. I promise."

"Bella?" he said against my chest. "Are we seriously scheduling sex?"

I laughed, but his hand was drifting down my stomach, turning my laugh into a moan.

"Wait," I said, "you have to go."

His hand lifted my leg so that my foot was on the edge of the tub, and his fingers tickled the inside of my thigh until they found the very spot I needed them to be. My head fell back.

"Do you want me to stop, Bella?" He bent over me, one arm behind my back, until I arched backward and he licked over my wet breast as his fingers teased, and there was no way I wanted him to stop.

"Don't stop…"

He let a finger enter me and I gasped, and just at that very moment, there was a knock at the door. I froze and opened my eyes, but Edward's lips and fingers kept going.

"How much longer?" came Emmett's muffled voice. "I have to leave for school."

"Give us a minute," Edward said, the tone in his voice not hiding his irritation. Then he whispered in my ear, "Ignore him, love. Feel this. Feel me." And a second finger entered me, and Emmett was gone along with everything else. I held on tight to Edward's shoulders, still arched backward, and felt him until I peaked and found my whiteness.

I dropped my foot unsteadily to the bathtub floor, holding around Edward's neck for balance, pulling him closer against me.

"I love you, Bella," he said.

I closed my eyes. "I needed to hear that."

"Why?" His hand cupped my face, his thumb tracing just under my eye. "You know it's true. Always true. Haven't I said it in a while?"

"I don't remember. I feel like I haven't seen you very much lately."

He brought his lips to mine, kissing me as the water pounded against my back. "This weekend… it's all you, Bella." His forehead came to rest on mine. "You and Masen."

My smile was genuine as I wrapped my arms around his waist like I had when I'd first entered the shower. We remained that way, my cheek against his chest, until we finished washing and exited the shower, because we had to. It was time.

* * *

**A/N:** Just like Edward promises, I promise you, dear readers, an Edward/Bella/Masen weekend next chapter.

Review please. :)


	31. Love

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

Join the _N__ot Without You_ discussion thread at Twillighted(dot)net

www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=7726&p=829227#p829227

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 31: Love

Edward and I exited the bathroom wrapped in our towels. My hair was wet over my shoulders, bringing tingly goose-bumps to my skin. As happy as we were, Emmett was not.

He stood, leaning against the sofa, his backpack clinging to his shoulders, his arms folded across his chest.

"I'm late for class," he said.

Edward apologized, but Emmett didn't seem to accept. I'd never made Emmett mad before, and it felt strange and awkward, only enhanced by the fact that all I wore was a peach-colored towel.

He headed for the kitchen without saying anything. I followed him.

"Emmett."

He turned.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be in there for that long. It was… it was…"

What was it? Good? Perfect? Exactly what we needed? Disrespectful?

"...disrespectful of us," I said, with an involuntary smile on my lips and a blush on my cheeks. I looked down to try to hide it.

"Love," he said. "I thought you gave me that 'get-out-of-babysitting-free' card."

"But Masen was sleeping." I gestured over my shoulder with my thumb, pointing toward our bedrooms.

He let one corner of his mouth raise into a smile. "Don't worry about it," he said. "I understand. Get dressed."

Edward was dressed and holding an awake Masen when I returned to our bedroom. "I have to go, love," he said, handing Masen to me.

"I know. Are you late, too?"

"Only a few minutes. It was worth it." He kissed me then Masen goodbye, his smile never leaving his lips.

I stood Masen on the floor so I could get dressed. He gave me his hungry sign.

"Just a minute," I said, puling my T-shirt over my head.

He signed "milk."

"I know, baby." I stepped into my jeans, then carried him out of the room.

"I'll feed you in a second, Masen. Mommy has to go potty first." I set him down to follow in after me as he usually did, but instead he sat there and wailed angrily at me, forming the sign for milk. I figured he must have been hungrier than usual due to his late rise.

I was quick on the toilet, trying to get to Masen as soon as possible, but while washing my hands, I noticed my ring was missing. My engagement ring, which I never took off, was off. My eyes widened and I touched my finger, as if I just couldn't see it, but might feel it.

"Where did it go?" I asked aloud, my eyes drifting over the floor. Then I closed them, trying to block Masen's cries from my head while I raced through my memory, as though I were rewinding a video, for a glimpse of the last time I'd seen it on my finger. But I was so used to seeing it there, I couldn't be sure.

Did I have it on in the shower? I checked the bathtub floor, then dropped to my hands and knees, crawling through the bathroom, and then the entire apartment--checking under the sofa, between the cushions, under the bed. What if I'd vacuumed it up? Or lost it outside the apartment? I'd never find it. My tears joined Masen's, but his screams had become so unbearable, I couldn't ignore them any longer. I brought him to the sofa to nurse him.

How was I going to tell Edward that I lost his great-grandmother's world?

"Oh god," I said, shaking my head. "I knew this was going to happen!" My voice startled Masen, and I patted his head until he nursed some more. I closed my eyes. When he finished nursing, I brought him to his highchair, then cooked him up some eggs, in between strangely opening cupboards and drawers in search of the ring. I even checked the dishwasher.

I scooped eggs onto Masen's tray and let him feed himself with his fingers the way he preferred, and racked my mind over again. It had to be somewhere. It had to be. Had I seen it yesterday? Did I notice it this morning ? I couldn't remember. I realized then there was only one place I hadn't looked. When Masen finished eating, I took him to my bedroom and threw off the bed covers. Masen laughed now at the sight of his frantic mother. I ran my hands along the bed in my search. My hand caught something metal, and I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath. The air of relief was sweet. I swallowed it, plucking the ring up as fast as I could and slid it back on my finger. It slid on easily. Too easily. I tilted my hand, and it fell off. Fisting the ring, I brought it to my chest. I couldn't wear it anymore.

I'd joked about my weight-loss, laughed about it, shrugged it off, ignored it, but it wasn't until I couldn't wear my engagement ring any longer that I began to take the weight loss seriously.

Eased by the thought of not having to tell Edward that his grandmother's ring was gone forever, at the same time, I was biting my lip with the thought of admitting to him that I'd lost more weight.

I set the ring on top of our tall chest, then took Masen to the kitchen. Rifling through the refrigerator, I pulled out anything that I'd previously enjoyed. I forced ham slices and cheese down. I ate a bowl of cereal, then reheated dinner from the night before. I ate until I was so stuffed that it made me gag to put any more food in my mouth. I shoved my plate aside. There was no way I could gain the weight I needed in one day anyway.

Before I finished cleaning my mess, Edward walked through the back door. I heard him come in, felt his presence, but didn't look at him. I kept my attention on the dish I washed in the sink. Masen was tugging on my pant leg, probably bored.

"I had to come see you," Edward said, kissing my cheek and hugging me from behind. "Do you need help?"

I shook my head, my eyes focused on my dishwashing.

"Hey, Mase! Do you want to come study with Daddy?"

I felt Masen let go of me, and Edward lifted him.

I dried my hands, then followed them into the living room. Leaning against the wall, I watched Edward on the sofa, Masen appearing tiny and doll-like in his lap.

"I need to talk to you," I said.

Edward patted the spot next to him. "What's on your mind, love?"

I sat down, facing him. I stared at him for too long. "Edward... I'm sorry."

His toying with Masen's hands came to a stop. "What for?"

"Something happened this morning and…"

"Wait. What's wrong? We were happy this morning, weren't we?" He frowned as if wondering if he was wrong, as if he had mistook my feelings between us that morning. "Did-did I say something? Do something?"

"No." I brought my ringless hand to his face. "You were perfect this morning. This is about me."

"What could have happened in the last few hours to have you this distressed?"

"I can't wear my engagement ring anymore."

"Of course you can. Bella… what?" He sat up straight, stiff. "This morning we… wait… you're telling me this between classes?" He stood up, still holding Masen.

I took Edward's hand. "Edward, I _want_ to wear the ring, but I really can't because…" I held my left hand toward him. "It's too big."

An expression of relief flashed over his face, instantly replaced with concern, and then his gaze turned intense as he searched my eyes. Was he angry? Disappointed?

"I thought that you…" He brought a hand to his head. "My brain must be fried. We'll get it re-sized," he said, sitting down again and kissing my finger.

"No, I'm going to eat more. I need to gain some weight."

He let out a breath. "Good," he said. "I didn't want to mention it because you're obviously stressed enough about this." He thumbed my jaw. "But yes, you need to eat more. Why haven't you been eating enough to maintain your weight?"

"My appetite has shrunk."

"Do you think you should see a doctor?"

"What can a doctor do besides tell me to eat more?"

"Maybe he could give you a high calorie supplement. Or maybe it has to do with more than just eating."

"I'll go if it continues," I said.

"Just… stay healthy, Bella."

His hand that was already at my neck grasped the necklace he'd given me. "Go get the ring. You can still wear it."

I went for the ring, thankful all over again that I'd found it before he got home. He placed it on the necklace next to Masen's birthstone, and re-clasped it around my neck.

"There," he said. "It's still with you."

I brought my hand to the necklace and felt. I was sure that motion would become a regular one, now that I was once again paranoid with losing a family heirloom and the symbol of our engagement.

"Thank you for not being angry, Edward."

"You thought I would be mad?" He frowned at me again. "You know me better than that, don't you? I'm only worried."

"The ring," I said, enclosing it in my hand at my chest.

"It will fit you again."

* * *

Saturday morning, we decided on a late-October trip to the beach. It would get us out of town, and give Rosalie and Emmett some much needed alone time. Before we left, I pulled them each aside separately, with the warning not to spend their time arguing. They both agreed to avoid any sort of silly disagreement--Emmett giving me the over-informative assurance that they never argue in bed, then proceeding to give me a double eyebrow raise, as if otherwise I wouldn't quite get what he was trying to say.

We packed up Edward's Bug with towels, blankets, plenty of munchies, and Masen's bag filled with more than enough diapers and changes of clothing. I offered to drive so that Edward could get some study time in along the way.

He kept putting chips in my mouth. "You need to eat," he said when I refused one.

The next time he brought his hand toward my mouth with a chip, I bit his finger. He laughed.

"Ow."

"I told you, no more."

"One more?"

"Edward. Seriously, I don't want anymore. I've been eating better these last couple of days, I promise. But I've had enough chips. No more can fit."

"Okay," he said, "more for me."

"Get your book out and study so you don't have to do it at the beach. I want your whole head with us while we're there. You can't be thinking of statistics or history. Just us."

"My head will be with you, love. I couldn't stop it if I wanted to." He took my hand and kissed it. "Do you want an orange?"

I laughed, then shoved his shoulder. "Later," I said. "Open your book."

Masen let out a quick shout from the back, maybe just to let us know he was still there. Edward and I exchanged a glance and laughed.

"Hey Masen," Edward said, turning around. "Are you going to the beach?"

"Ah!" Masen said.

"Yeah? Is it your first time?"

"Ah!" he said again, higher pitched this time.

"He's excited," Edward said to me.

"He's the cutest," I said.

"Merge onto 92 up here," Edward said.

On the road for twenty minutes, and nearly halfway to the coast, we headed toward hills.

"Bella, look," Edward said, pointing out the window as we crossed a reservoir.

"Oh my god," I said, wanting to pull the car over. Drifting up off the water, all at once, were hundreds, no thousands, of white birds, row after row. "What are they?"

"I don't know. They're big, though. They look like geese."

"They're all white." They swooped up and over us like an arching bridge of ivory silk, their flapping wings flickering under the sun. They spanned their wings, soaring, then landed on the other side of us, covering the reservoir like sheets of snow. "I've never seen anything like it. How many do you think there are?"

"I'd guess at least a few thousand."

"I wish they'd do it again." I checked my rearview mirror, but we were already getting too far away to see anything at that point.

We continued on, encased between ascending hills shadowed with enormous Redwoods. Smaller trees and foliage of red, orange, and yellow were spattered here and there between the evergreens--almost as if they'd been purposely painted in. It was hard to imagine an ocean just over the hills to the west. Surely the artist must have painted that in, as well.

Grounded leaves disturbed by our slowing arrival swirled into the air, taken gently away by the wind, as we turned into an empty lot near a small cliff. It was still morning, not quite 10:00, and Masen had remained awake through the drive.

As I walked down the cliff's edge, I held on to the wall of the hill and watched my footing with care, knowing that I could easily trip. It was a short way down, and even though there was a rocky path to follow, it was narrow, and the hill was steep enough to intimidate the clumsy side of me. I kept choosing to step on rocks that were loose in the ground and I would wobble on my ankles. It had taken me twice the time as it had Edward to arrive at the bottom, and he'd been carrying Masen. He waited with patience and an amused smile, letting Masen down to explore the beach for the first time once I joined them at the bottom.

Masen toppled over time after time, but he'd catch himself with his hands and continue to get up and start again without complaining, as if that was just how one walks through sand.

There was a certain air of abandonment surrounding us as we rested on our oversized blanket facing the azure ocean. The waves generously took our troubles and carried them on their bobbing backs out to sea. I wondered how far our problems would travel and who would end up with them and if, whoever those poor souls were, they wouldn't mind keeping them.

Clouds puffed their way across the sky, covering and uncovering the sun throughout the day, and the moments we were left without the warmth of the sun, the temperature was a good twenty degrees cooler than it had been inland. It was when the sun shone down on us that we braved the removal of our shoes and socks, and the rolling up of our pants, to wade through the shallow waves.

Edward held Masen's fingers as our little boy laughed, squealed, stomped, and jumped over white foamy water. The ocean felt as if it had been filled from a glass packed with ice. It was so cold. I backed up and watched my two guys. Masen's hair, though still blonde, had grown in thicker and darkened some. He was, of course, fairer than Edward, and much smoother skinned, but his face still resembled Edward as far as I could tell. When he smiled his eyes lit up like light passing through round peridot stones. You could almost see right through his eyes to his person, his soul, just like his daddy. When I looked long enough, I'd catch a glimpse of the good man he would grow to become. I gave him a proud smile that he couldn't see while he marched over the water.

"Come on," Edward said, motioning me over with a big circle of his arm.

I shook my head. "It's too cold."

"It's warmer than in Washington."

"And I never went into the water there either."

He laughed, shook his head, and gave up. After a few more jumps over waves, Edward let go of Masen and showed him how to chase after the waves as they drifted away, and then run from them as they rushed back. The waves were always the fastest and got them around their ankles. Edward lifted Masen each time before the wobbly little guy could fall over. I smiled at the sight of it, clearing up space in my mind to preserve the memory. I added my feelings of peace to my private preservation until it resembled an ageless black and white photo, glossy and soundless, but at the same time full of voice. Edward's happy chatter with his son. Masen's baby chatter back. It didn't matter what was said or if they even understood each other. What mattered was that it was happening, and I locked it away. That thought reminded me that I'd packed our camera in Masen's bag, and I stumbled up-shore to grab it. I was able to click a few pictures before a large wave came, too large for Masen, and Edward rescued him, lifting him so that the wave hit Edward at his hips, but barely swept the bottoms of Masen's feet. That was it for them.

"Cold," Edward said.

I laughed. "I told you." I traced his lips with a finger then kissed him.

"Mmm… but your lips are warm." Still his teeth chattered and we made our way back to our blankets and towels.

"Take off your jeans," I told him.

"Bella, not in front of Masen."

"Shut up." I smiled. "You know what I mean. Take them off."

Once he was out of his pants, I wrapped a blanket around him. Then I changed Masen's diaper, dressed him in dry clothes, wrapped him in his own blanket, and nursed him until he fell asleep. Edward made a little cushiony bed for our son with folded up towels and I laid the little angel on top of it, still draped in his blanket. As I positioned one of the towels to block the sun from Masen's face, Edward moved around to my other side and lay beside me.

"Come into the blanket with me," he said, holding it open. I lay next to him and he covered me, gathering me into his arms, holding me tight, as if I might join the seagulls in flight if he loosened his hold.

"We'll all nap together," Edward said.

"I love your arms," I said, rubbing them with my fingers.

"I love your body," he said squeezing me even closer.

"Remember our first date at the beach?"

"You told me that couldn't be considered a date."

"Whatever it was, the point is, you remember."

"Yes, I remember, and as awesome as that was, this is better."

I nodded. "So much has changed since then."

"But we're here, two years later. After everything that's happened, we've made it."

"Because we're us," I said.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"Just in case you need to hear it, I love you." He lifted his head to kiss my face.

I sighed and turned my face so our lips could meet. "I love you, too."

We lay in the sand, our family of three, Edward's arms wrapping me, and my arm over Masen, and we slept to the sounds of crashing waves and squawking gulls.

All three of us were awakened by cool mists of ocean spray carried on the wind to land on our faces, and all three of us awoke hungry. Masen stood and gave my arm a couple of light smacks, then signed for food. I smiled up at him, and tried pulling him down, against me, but he wasn't having that. He squirmed until I let him free and he signed for food again, this time with a whine.

I sat up. "What do you want? Banana or jar food." I reached into the bag and pulled out his choices. He chose the banana. I peeled it for him and he ate it sideways. Edward laughed.

"How is he that cute? It's impossible to be that cute." Then he pulled me on top of him. "And what would you like to eat, love?"

"Love," Masen said, though it sounded more like "ove."

"What, kid?" Edward asked, shocked and sitting up.

Masen crossed his arms over his chest and swayed--his version of the sign for love.

"Say it," Edward said.

"Ove," Masen said, signing love at the same time.

"That's right, my little guy. Mommy is love." Edward turned to me with smiles. "Our son is smart," he said. "And I think that's his first word."

"He's said dada, mama, and ew."

"Yeah, but those are names, and ew is more of a sound. This is a real word. Or… has he said other words?"

"No," I smiled. "Love is his first real word."

"Masen," Edward said. "Look at this. See what love is." He pulled my face toward his. "Come here, my love," he said before kissing me. When he pulled away, I was out of breath and Edward turned to Masen. "That's love."

"That's love," I said, nodding, but not looking away from Edward.

The sea was glowing an aura of red under the setting sun, and my baby and my fiance were repeating the word love, while Edward gave me kisses in between.

"I could live here with you," I said, then kissed him deep and fast, pushing against him until he was on his back and I was lying on top of him, and our son was laughing.

* * *

We decided to drive in to Half Moon Bay for dinner. Traffic was heavy downtown, some of the roads blocked due to their Art and Pumpkin Festival. A banner announcing the annual festival hung across the street arching from one side to the other.

"How are your jeans?" I asked Edward.

"They're cold, damp and stiff, but what can I do?" he said. "Pull over."

"Where? There's nowhere to park."

"Drive around again. I want to get a pumpkin."

I finally found a spot a ways off a side street.

Edward and I pulled our sweatshirts on, and then he secured Masen around himself in the sling. He let Masen face outwards so he could see everything. I wondered why anyone used strollers; they should just get an Edward.

"You don't care that it's lavender?" I asked.

"Nope." He slung an arm around me, and we hoofed it back to Main Street.

The festival was coming to a close. White tented booths were being pulled down, and the band onstage called _T__he Unauthorized Rolling Stones_ announced their last song. They were costumed exactly like _The Rolling Stones_, and even moved like them as they began "Start Me Up". It made me laugh.

"Hurry," Edward said. "Everything's closing up." He rushed me over to a booth with pumpkins spilling over each other from the tables to the ground, all stacked up in such a way that if you picked up the wrong one they all might come tumbling down. In the corner of one of the red and white checked clothed tables was a huge carved pumpkin. It was the size of one of my truck's tires and its mouth was wide open, all the seeds and gunky pulp coming out of it as though the pumpkin had vomited. It was disgusting and intriguing at the same time. A red Second Place ribbon was stuck to its side.

"Which one do you want?" Edward asked.

I pointed to a white one.

"White?"

"You asked me which one I wanted. I want that one."

"All right," he said, laughing and handing it to me. "We're getting two then." He picked up a large one that I supposed was the correct color. We lined up behind the table with the electric calculator and scale on it. Next to the scale was a basket encasing tiny pumpkins. Edward took one and handed it to Masen. "We're getting three," he said.

Masen smiled at his little pumpkin and shook it proudly. Holding it by the stem, he accidentally dropped it and reached down for it, whining. I picked it up for him.

"Two hands," I said, and he held them both out. "Be careful this time. No dropping. It might smash." I gave his nose a gentle poke and he hugged his pumpkin.

"Congratulations," I said to the plump-armed woman who took Edward's money.

"Oh hun, this is nothing," she said. "Last year we sold twice as many as we have this year."

"No, I mean..." I pointed to the vomiting pumpkin.

"Oh!" She laughed, shook her head and placed her fists on her hips. "My husband," she said. "Each year he outdoes himself. He's probably back there already sketching out his creation for next year." She motioned to the trailer parked behind her.

"It's great," Edward said, then looked down at me. "Should we carve ours like that?"

"No," I said, and the pumpkin woman laughed harder.

We each carried our own pumpkin, looking for a place to eat that wouldn't mind our dirty, sandy bodies. We chose a little café with outdoor seating behind a low wrought iron fence. As casual as the place was, they still served glasses of water topped with a lemon slice. I sucked on a corner of my lemon and Masen, seated on Edward's lap, reached for it.

"He wants some lemon," I said.

"Just touch his lips with it," Edward said. "He'll get a taste of how sour it is."

Masen licked his lips then opened his mouth for more.

I laughed. "Should I give him more?"

"He likes it? Go ahead. It won't hurt him."

I let him suck on it as much as he wanted. He kept smacking his lips together and then going for more. Then he reached over for Edward's lemon slice.

"Very cute and odd," I said. "Definitely my baby."

"Our baby," Edward said.

"Yeah, but you're not odd."

"Nice, Bella."

"What?"

"I'm boring?"

"I didn't say that, Edward. You're just… normal most of the time. You insisted on the orange pumpkin."

"Orange is the color of fall and Halloween," he said as though he needed to defend himself. "But I want to be strange like you and Masen." He kissed my nose.

"The fact that you want to be strange makes you strange," I said. "Congratulations, strange boy." I kissed him.

"Perfect," he said.

It was dark by the time we finished eating, and the restaurant had turned on outdoor heaters, thankfully. The downtown streets were much emptier as we strolled slowly back to Edward's car. Some of the shops had shut off the white lights lining their windows, but the trees on the street were still lit up. I held my pumpkin against my stomach, my other arm linked through Edward's, and my head on his shoulder. Masen was asleep against Edward's chest, still hugging his pumpkin close, his lower lip pouting forward. I leaned down and kissed it.

"I love today," I said.

"What do you want to do tomorrow, Bella?"

"Move here. I want to pack up all our belongings and escape everything. We'll get a tiny shack on the beach with cement floors, and I won't even mind sweeping sand out everyday."

"Or we could just cover the floors with sand so it wouldn't matter."

"We'll sleep in hammocks over our sandy floor and grow lemon trees outside just for Masen."

Edward laughed. "We'll take bushels of lemons to the roadside and sell them. A business we can build for Mase. By the time we're through with him, he won't be able to stand lemons. What do you think?" He looked down at me.

"I think it sounds romantic."

"Romantic?"

"Mm-hmm."

"You know, lemon trees have thorns. What about after the fiftieth time you stick your hand with a thorn? Because we are talking about you, love. You'll have little red scars and gouges all over. Still romantic?"

"I'll wear gloves when I pick lemons. And if they prick me anyway, then I'll have one scar for every romantic day. And I'll make you kiss each one of them."

"What about in the winter, when the storms come and threaten to blow our shack over? And what about our poor insulation? How will we survive, or at least, keep warm?"

"Are you trying to talk me out of my own fantasy?"

"No." He laughed. "I want to hear your creative answers."

"Well, if our shack blows over, you'll simply rebuild it, shirtless. Masen will hand you your tools and supplies, and I'll watch. We'll have an old wood-burning stove to keep us warm, and which I'll boil soup over."

"If you're going to watch me rebuild the shack shirtless in the rain, then you're going to have to boil the soup naked," he said.

"It would be too hot that close to the stove to wear clothes, anyway," I said.

"How in the world did I ever meet you?"

"You met me in Forks. I was the shy, clumsy girl you were forced to marry."

"I meant, my love, what did I do to deserve you?"

"Let's see… you were raised to be a nice boy by two loving parents who believe in you. You took me to a dive bar on our first date to scald our ears with yelling passed off as music, and all of which I preferred to the horrors of a school dance. You waited with patience until we were both sure that I was ready for sex, and you first told me you loved me before we did it, not after. You played the piano for me even though you may not have been comfortable with it. You stood by me when I found out I was pregnant, and you've remained by my side-"

"I'll never leave your side."

"And that right there, my Edward, is the short answer."

We'd reached the corner of the street our car was parked on, and the lights there were more spread out, leaving the street dimmer.

"Bella," Edward stopped abruptly.

"Yeah?" I let go of his arm and faced him. His pumpkin tucked under one arm, he cupped my face with his free hand, caressing my cheekbone. "What is it?" I asked.

"Shh, I just want to look at you."

I looked back at him, too. His eyes under the dim, almost non-existent light looked more hazel than green. He had two days worth of stubble on his face, and his lips were closed and still. I thought I understood what he'd meant. It had been a long time since we'd really looked at each other without talking, without interruption, without distraction.

His thumb traced over my lips. "Do you have any idea how you make me feel?" he asked.

I opened my mouth to answer, but no voice came out, so I shook my head.

He clasped the back of my hand, intertwining our fingers and brought my palm to his chest above Masen. Edward's heart was pounding. It seemed to be racing.

"This is what happens to me when I take a minute to look at you."

"Go on," came a nasally male voice from across the street. "Kiss her."

Edward and I looked over at him. Under the yellow glow of a streetlight, the aged bald man with a broom in his hand was sweeping the last remnants of whatever booth he'd opened there for the festival.

"What are you waiting for?" the man asked. "She wants you to do it, look at her."

I smiled at the man.

"I am looking at her," Edward said, perhaps too quiet for the old man to hear. I faced Edward again, realizing I'd only thought he'd joined me in my gaze at the old man, but he'd actually never taken his eyes off me.

"He's right," Edward said. "I need to kiss you now."

I nodded, and his hand rounded my neck as he leaned toward me so slowly, that it reminded me of our very first kiss. It made me nervous the way he looked into my eyes so deeply and so hesitant in his kiss. My lips parted in wait before his were even close to touching mine. Unable to keep patience, I stood on tiptoe to meet him part way, and when our lips finally met, butterflies filled my body, reaching my elbows and my fingertips. I nearly dropped my pumpkin.

How could he make me feel this way after two years together? I hoped it never stopped because this feeling was too good. This feeling in his kiss was almost better than making love with him. For a moment, while we kissed, we were no longer in the now almost deserted downtown of Half Moon Bay. Instead we were back in Forks on my dad's front porch, Edward kissing me goodnight under the Washington moon, where its light fought its way through clouds just to shine down on our kiss. When Edward pulled away, my eyes remained closed and my lips remained parted.

"How do you do that?" I asked.

"How do _you_ do it?" he asked, just as out of breath as I was.

I reached out to touch Edward, but my hand landed on Masen's curved body through the sling. I looked down at our sleeping baby, and swept his soft hair aside. He was so still and so peaceful that the way he appeared just then encompassed my feelings of the moment exactly. I had a hard time looking away. Edward's fingers pushed hair behind my ear and lifted my face so he could kiss me again.

Edward drove home. Somewhere between Highways 92 and 101, I fell asleep on his shoulder, my hand wrapped around his upper arm. It soothed me further every time I felt his arm move to adjust the gear shift. When we arrived in our parking spot at our apartment, Edward didn't wake me with a shoulder nudge or a sweep of his hand, or his words. He woke me with a kiss, his tongue soft on my lips, as if asking permission for entrance. I opened my mouth and let him in.

"Bella," Edward said, his fingers on my cheek. "If I could, I would spend every day with you and Masen like this."

"Me too."

* * *

**A/N: **What do you think? Let me know with a review. :)

I'm really trying to get back to everyone who reviews. In case I miss you, or you review anonymously, THANK YOU! I truly appreciate the time you take to give me your opinion.

Also, there will be a one-shot coming soon that was bid on at lion_lamb's Haiti fundraiser auction. The subject of the one-shot will be announced as soon as she lets me know what she wants. :)


	32. Somewhere

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

**New one-shot! **I've posted the one-shot written for a Help for Haiti auction. The auction winner requested a VetWard story, and if you haven't had a chance to read it yet, you can find the link on my profile page, titled **Sixteen Hours**.

Or here: www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/5701921/1/Sixteen_Hours

_N__ot Without You_ discussion thread at Twillighted: www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=7726&p=829227#p829227

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 32: Somewhere

Nowhere is a town in Oklahoma, located just a few miles east of Fort Cobb State Park. In the midst of Nowhere is a general store and a water tower with the name "Nowhere" printed on it. I imagine Nowhere is covered in tall, crisp, wild grass the color of wheat. Other than those few remnants, the town has little--if anything else--to offer. I came across Nowhere during one of my slips into self-doubt while typing the word nowhere into the search engine and pressing enter. I came to the quick conclusion that Nowhere was a place I definitely wasn't.

I was most assuredly in Stanford, California, and after my weekend with Edward and Masen, the old Bella had been rejuvenated. I was happier with myself and my place--nowhere near Nowhere--than I'd been in months.

Even though it was Monday, and Edward was back in class and would be shooting off to work later, I was still high on the sweeping coattails of the weekend. The mountains, the birds, the beach, the pumpkins, the boys…

"Masen!" I said, lifting him from his toys in the living room and spinning, bringing out his laugh. "We're going to the arboretum today, no matter what. That is our place, yours and mine." I touched his nose with mine. He clapped his hands, perhaps because he was happy to be twirling in circles, but I'd like to think he was happy to have a place that was just ours.

Our Eucalyptus was still free, and we sat beneath it eating lunch. I'd let Masen pick out what he wanted to eat. Of course, all that meant was that he grabbed for one container and not the other. So he was helping me spoon applesauce into his mouth. He was too forceful with the spoon most times, and a lot of the applesauce ended up on his cheek instead of in his mouth.

"Bella," Caius said, and I looked up, shocked to hear his voice. I'd done the math in my head, and I was sure this was his week without Riley. But there Riley was, on his daddy's shoulders. "It's been a while. What happened to you?"

"I took some… time off."

Caius laughed. "Yeah, it's pretty common to need a break from the fresh air and relaxation the arboretum has to offer."

"I'm surprised to see you here this week."

His hand came to the rim of his cap, but he didn't lift, he just held it. "Andrea asked me to switch weeks. I hardly believe it myself. She has job interviews lined up, and I get Riley for two weeks in a row without having to give up any future weeks." His smile was big, reaching for his white eyebrows.

"Do you have a couple of free hours?" he asked. "I was going to take Riley up to The Dish. The weather's perfect for it."

"Isn't it a little chilly for that?" Maybe Caius could wear shorts in this weather, but I'd put a sweatshirt on myself and Masen because of the chill in the air. It didn't escape me, however, that back in Forks I'd be in full rain gear by this time in October. I would hardly be sitting under a tree, unless I'd wanted to sink into mud.

"It's not that cold out, and believe me, it will be hot up there."

"I don't know." I shook my head.

"Look. Let's just take the shuttle over and check it out. If you don't want to do it, it's an easy ride back."

I stared at him for a moment. "Maybe," I said, nodding, though reluctantly. He must have noticed the doubt in my nod.

"If it's Edward you're worried about… well, you know there's nothing going on between us, and I'm sure he trusts you. This is your opportunity to check it out with a free guide." He smiled. "Nothing more."

I nodded again, this time standing up, taking more of a stance in my decision. We caught the shuttle and took the long ride across campus, past Escondido Village where Caius pointed out he lived, and we got off at Tressider Hall.

"The Dish" was the term widely used for the trails in the Stanford foothills that looped around the actual dish, which was an enormous one-hundred-fifty foot working radio telescope. From the top center, it resembled a giant white eye, which essentially was what it was. From far away on the trail, it looked more like a spaceship, like it had been the model for cartoon animators when they'd drawn up their UFOs. Someone somewhere must have seen the dish, and saw in its circular mystery a power that could beam you with rays of light, zapping you into it, and whisking you away to some distant galaxy. Surely someone had sketched a picture, famously transforming it from a radio telescope to the universal image of a UFO in all the world's mind's eye.

"It's a ten minute walk from here, if you're quick."

Carrying Masen in my sling, and wearing his backpack, I wasn't very quick, so it took us nearly twice that long. But once we got there, I saw that Caius was right. After a few steep inclines that left me winded, Caius knew the less strenuous path to follow. The trail, settled between knee-high, mostly brown grass, was paved, wide and somewhat crowded with other hikers or joggers, mothers with strollers, and even some guy running dressed in slacks and a tie, and there was nothing romantic about it.

A little farther up, the path opened to green and yellow grassy hills with trees that were spread out far from each other. Some grew in small clusters off in the distance, and others grew singly and huge. Up ahead, a small group of cows blocked our trail. I frowned in definite confusion. I'd never been so close to a cow without a fence between us, and had I been alone, I would have turned right around. Caius clapped his hands until the animals moved aside. I laughed.

"This is so strange," I said.

"Don't worry, it's rare that cows will get in your way." He laughed at his own sentence. "Mountain lions, on the other hand…"

"What?!" I froze and held Masen tighter, as if we were being threatened by the animal that very moment. I turned around, sure I'd see one lurking beneath a tree, veiled by thick foliage behind me.

"I'm kidding. They're not hiding in wait of the next human, Bella. I shouldn't have said that. Come on."

He took my wrist and ushered me on. The other people coming and going soothed my fears, and I continued to follow him. I no longer worried about mountain lions or other threatening animals, and enjoyed the view. As we ascended in our climb I turned around again, looking down at the way we'd come, the trees we'd emerged from--one with branches spread big and round like protective wings. I could imagine a little house underneath it, poppies growing in the Spring, and it reminded me of the shack Edward and I had created...

Again, I felt like going home. As breathtaking as the scenery was, and as kind as Caius was being, I didn't feel right about being here. I wished Edward was with me while I experienced this for the first time.

"Bella? Are you coming?" Caius asked.

I turned to him, Riley on his back, his little arms wrapped tightly around his daddy's neck, and his eyes very alert and aware of his surroundings. I looked down at Masen wrapped up in my sling, who was toying with the ends of my hair.

"I-I don't know."

"The walk is easy from here. It's up and down, but it's not rough terrain or anything."

A squirrel ran out in the space between us. There was just one, and it was gone as fast as it had appeared.

"Isn't it late for squirrels?" I asked.

"That was a tree squirrel. You could tell by the absence of stripes or spots. They don't hibernate."

As sure as that squirrel was headed for comfort in a tree, I turned without a word and walked back the way I'd come, heading for my comfort.

"Where are you going?" Caius called from behind me, making me realize how briskly I was walking.

"I have to go. This isn't right."

"What isn't right?" He'd caught up.

"I just have to go."

Edward flashed through my mind again. Where was he now? His final class of the day, only to come home briefly to leave again for work, and here I was, enjoying my free time with some other guy. Tears met my eyes that I could in no way let Caius see.

"Just slow down. I'll walk with you."

I slowed a little, staring straight ahead.

"I'm sorry. I had no idea you'd react this way."

"This… I shouldn't be here with you!"

Caius didn't say anything.

We returned to the steeper, woodier section, and Caius caught my arm a few times before I tumbled.

"Thanks," I said.

"Bella, this isn't… I mean, I'm not… we're not..."

I looked at him, his eyebrows slanted.

"I know," I said. "I just don't feel right about it. Not today."

"Is this why you stayed away from the arboretum these past weeks? Because of me?"

"I did it for Edward."

We walked in awkward silence. Maybe it was awkward, maybe not. At that moment, I didn't care.

By the time we got to the bottom, I was sweating. Caius had been right about that, too. It wasn't a bit cold here. It was hot.

Caius road the shuttle with me, and though he didn't mention anything else about my strange reaction or ridiculously adolescent behavior, he did make me feel worse when he remained on the shuttle, ignoring his stop, insisting on seeing me all the way home.

The bare reality of this situation was that I was being dropped off at home, where I lived with my fiancé, the man I loved, by another guy.

Caius was insistent on walking me all the way to my door. I was more insistent on that _not_ happening.

"No," I said. "I don't _want_ you to do that."

"Okay," Caius said, sitting back down on the shuttle, Riley on his lap, and he gave me a goodbye wave without a smile. The expression on his face looked a bit like pity. It was either that or pain. Had my reaction and quick escape hurt his feelings?

Masen was sleeping on my chest by the time I entered the apartment. Edward was already home, studying at his desk.

"I'm sorry," I said to Edward as I laid Masen down, knowing it wouldn't be long before he awoke again.

"What?" Edward asked, standing up.

I went right to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. His arms held me, too.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I keep messing up!" I felt his chest against mine and it soothed me a little bit, only to make me feel worse a second later.

Edward's hand breezed down my hair. "What happened, Bella?"

I pulled away to look into his eyes. "Caius was at the arboretum today, and we decided to walk The Dish loop, or I started to anyway." For some reason I'm unsure of, and wasn't aware of at the time, I started walking as I spoke. I walked out of our room. Edward followed.

"And of course there's nothing between us--God!--but I couldn't stop thinking about you…" I stopped in the living room and turned to look at him "...and then when I saw the view, it reminded me of our little shack, and I just wished you were with me, and I felt awful for even being there without you while you were in class. I should have stayed at the arboretum," I said, continuing my pacing, "or I should have been here. I shouldn't have even gone to the arboretum in the first place. I should have done laundry. It's piling up!"

"Bella, hey, hey…" He pushed hair from my face and held me with both hands at my jaw. Somehow we'd ended up in the kitchen. "I don't expect you to live like a recluse, pining away until I get home. That's not why you're here. Being here at Stanford isn't only about me. It's about us."

"And Caius?"

"I've accepted him as your friend. You don't have to feel guilty for spending time with him. Although, I'd love it if you could make a girl friend." His lips turned up in a crooked-smile.

I gave a short laugh. "He said you would understand. That you would trust me." I covered my face. "Oh god, I acted like an idiot."

"What do you mean?"

"I practically ran away from him like I was twelve years old. He's probably relieved this crazy person is out of his life."

"You're not crazy." He held my hands, his thumbs playing with the ends of my fingers. "And he should understand your oddities by now. If he doesn't, then he can go fuck himself."

I took a step back. "Edward, you _are_ jealous."

"I swear, I'm not jealous of Caius, but I love that you reacted this way."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Because it feels good. It makes me feel smug."

"Why would it make you smug if you're not jealous?"

"I'm not jealous because I know I don't have to worry about your loyalty to _us_. But I'm glad that he's now aware that he stands no chance against me. You know, just in case his reasons for this friendship aren't as pure as yours."

I stared at Edward, his welcome green eyes. Was he seriously okay with this?

"Bella, I remember the freedom you gave me when Rose needed me, and I always wondered if I could be that selfless for you. I owe it to you to try. For you." He brought our hands up and poked my chest gently with his finger.

I stood on my tiptoes and hugged him. "You don't owe me anything."

I kissed him along his jaw and down his throat to the top of his chest until my lips met cotton, and then his lips took mine. Our kisses were fast and generous, and our mouths were the only things in the world in that moment. His fingers were working my jeans as he kissed me, and then his hand was inside my pants. I spread my legs apart and tipped my head back as he kissed my neck.

"Edward," I said, "not here. Emmett will kill us."

He didn't answer, but he kept kissing me as we walked back to our bedroom. He must have closed the door because I knew I didn't. The only thing I was aware of--apart from Edward removing my shirt--was the bed as it halted me. Edward wrapped his arms so far around me that I felt his hands on each side of my ribs as he lifted me onto the bed.

"God, you're so tiny," he said, and his lips grazed down my throat to my breast. He pushed against me through his jeans and I pushed back, which made us both push into each other again, harder.

I released him from his shirt, and he was bent over me at the edge of the bed, lifting my legs around him. His breathing was loud and heavy as I tugged at the button of his pants. He had mine off well before I even had his zipper down. He kissed over my bra, his hands rounding my back to unhook it, when they froze. We both froze at the sound of Masen's whimper. It may have been quiet, but it was there.

I sat up, my hand on Edward's chest.

"No, no, no. Not yet, little man," Edward whispered. He looked at me, a plea in his eyes. "Please, Bella. The screen is there."

I touched his lips. "Shh," I said, and listened. Masen was quiet. I couldn't hear any movement at all. I pulled Edward's zipper down the rest of the way and pushed off his pants. He wriggled out of them, and we were both naked. He spread my legs and pulled me toward him at the edge of the bed.

"Just be as quiet as possible," I said, my own volume rising on the word "possible" as Edward entered me. My arms held tightly around his back as my lips came to his shoulder.

We moved slowly at first, trying with all our strength to keep quiet, but we knew that if we wanted to get through this, we couldn't be slow, and as if in each other's head, we quickened the pace of our bodies at the same time. I let go of him and fell back against the bed. His arms came around my lower back and he held me at such an angle that I had to fist the bedding in order to move with him as our bodies meshed hurriedly together, and I was gone. I closed my mouth up tight to keep quiet through my orgasm, and then I had to bite my lip as it became nearly impossible to do so. I let out a few whimpers--I had to. So did Edward, it seemed, as he groaned and fell on top of me in a pant.

"We did it," he said, pushing my hair out of the way to kiss along my cheekbone. Masen remained quiet, so we scooted ourselves properly on the bed and held each other for as long as we could before Masen awoke.

"I love it when it happens unexpected like that," I said, my fingers circling his chest. "Spontaneous. It's like being high."

"What do you know about being high?" He laughed.

"That," I said.

"You're right." He enclosed me in his arms and pulled me on top of him. "Man," he said, "sometimes it feels like I might break you."

"You're fine," I said. "You never hurt me." But I understood that he hadn't said it because I was adorable and precious and he was my big brawny man unaware of his own strength. He'd said it out of concern, as I was the thinnest I'd ever been. I'd been trying to eat more--every time to the point of gagging. Even that day at the arboretum, I'd packed myself two sandwiches. Still, I may have packed two, but I could only fit one down. I had to build my appetite back up again. Maybe it was a slow process.

I was relieved when he let the subject go--so relieved that I smiled down at him.

"Be happy, Bella." He traced the curve of my lips. "Do whatever it takes to be happy, love, because there's nothing I like to see more than your smile."

* * *

Halloween brought costumes, Jack-O-Lanterns, arguments, pasta, and my first rainfall experience in California. I'd gone with Emmett to pick up groceries. He needed to try to get beer for a party, and I needed ingredients for a pasta dinner I had planned for Edward and Masen, who were spending some boy time together back at the apartment. Rosalie was also there, getting herself costumed up for a "Wigs and Wings" party somewhere in Berkeley. Emmett was reluctant to wear a wig or wings, and was trying to get himself out of it. Knowing Rosalie, he wouldn't be very successful in his attempt.

At our trusty grocery store, Emmett got away without being carded, and the teenager at the register handed Emmett the bag of beer, and me the bag of vegetables.

"Here you go, ma'am," he said.

_Ma'am_? Had he just called me _ma'am_? He couldn't have been more than three years younger than me. I'm pretty sure I glared at him. Emmett took my bag, and we ran through the rain in the parking lot. We were unprepared for this.

"There are going to be some disappointed trick-or-treaters tonight," Emmett said as we buckled in to his Jeep.

"Maybe it will stop for them." In Forks, it wouldn't have, but here there was always that good chance.

I unloaded the groceries in the kitchen. Edward and Masen came to help. Somehow Edward had managed to get Masen to wear his mouse ears. He'd been pulling them off all morning, and I'd finally given up trying.

I handed Masen a tomato from the bag, then brought a bowl down to him. "Put the tomato in here, little mousie."

Masen looked at the tomato and then up at me, as if deciding what to do with it, and as if he understood what it meant to have the tomato in his hands. He could either put it in the bowl like I said, or not.

"Go ahead," I said. "Put it in the bowl." I pushed the bowl toward him again, and he dropped it in.

"Yay," I said, praising him for listening, and he smiled, but then reached up for it as I put the bowl back on the counter. Clearly he thought the tomato was his now.

"You can't have it back, Masen. It's for dinner."

I yawned and looked at the clock. It was only 4:00, and I was already tired.

"What are we making tonight?" Edward asked.

"I'm making it," I said. "For you. You can play with Masen, or study, or do whatever you want until it's ready." I stood on tiptoe to kiss the base of Edward's throat.

Emmett came over and grabbed a handful of the pumpkin seeds I'd saved and baked from our now carved Half Moon Bay Pumpkins.

"Have I told you lately that I love you living here?" Emmett asked me.

"Emmett!" Rosalie said, appearing in the archway. She wore a short white flouncy dress with silver glitter. He hair was down in long waves over her shoulders, and I couldn't remember the last time she'd worn her hair down except to go to bed. "Are you going to get ready?"

"I am ready," he said.

"You're really planning on going like that? They won't let you in. You have to wear a costume."

"I'm not wearing a costume. If they don't let me in, then I'll be lucky."

"Wear the fucking wig, Emmett, and stop acting like a child."

"Rosalie!" I said, and covered Masen's ears-- a little late, I realized. But now that he was beginning to learn words, I really did not want "fuck" to be one of them.

She rolled her eyes at me and walked out. I forced Edward out of the kitchen too, so I could get started on dinner. I began work on my sauce first. I wanted it to be fresh, not bottled or canned, and as the tomatoes and seasonings stewed in the pot, I boiled some water for the pasta. Pasta was my very favorite thing to cook because I didn't really have to think about it. I just worked automatically, and somehow knew just how much of which seasoning to add. I'd been cooking it for over ten years now.

While the sauce cooked and I waited for the pasta water to boil, I joined Edward in the living room, wiping my brow. I plopped down on the sofa next to him, and he pushed his book aside. Masen was on his lap, but wanted down, and went over to his toy basket, pulling out everything then putting it all back. He thought that was hysterical and bounced up and down, laughing.

"Someone called me _ma'am_ today. Do I look that bad?" I asked, facing Edward.

"You never look bad," he said, his hand slipping through my hair, then his thumb rubbed across my cheekbone. "But you look tired."

"Yeah," Emmett said, standing outside his room. "And pale. Really pale. Even for you."

"You do look pale," Edward said, looking closer at me. "You look almost blue. Are you feeling all right?" He felt my forehead. He did it in the same way his dad had done so long ago at his house. Feeling first with the front of his hand, then with the back. Their likeness made me smile.

"I'm feeling fine," I said. "Just sleepy." I let my head fall against Edward's shoulder. He kissed my temple.

"Are you sure you don't need help with dinner?"

"Could you just throw the pasta in when the water comes to a boil? It will be a while. I don't have it very high because I want the sauce to simmer. Oh, but the sauce will also need stirring."

"Sure, Bella. Take a nap, love."

I fell asleep on Edward's lap, only to be awakened minutes later by Rosalie and Emmett bickering again.

Even from where I was lying, I could see how beautiful Rosalie looked. She'd put eyeshadow on, and face glitter, and pink lipstick. She held white feathered wings in her hand. It was the first time she'd worn makeup since the accident, and even if it was only Halloween makeup, I still wondered if she even realized the significant step she'd just taken.

"Emmett?" I said, sitting up.

He looked at me.

"Rosalie obviously really wants to go to this party. Look at her. She's so beautiful. Just wear the wig and go with her. Life will go on, and you can live it knowing you've made her happy."

It seemed simple to me. Surely Emmett had enough confidence that one night in a wig wouldn't tear him down.

"Okay, I'll go," Emmett said.

"What?" Rosalie asked.

"Bella's right; it's not going to kill me, and if it makes you happy, I'll do it."

"Forget it. We're not going."

"We're not going now?"

"No way. How long have I been trying to talk you into going? You would rather us argue than go to this party, and _Love_ steps in with her sweet little assertion, and you've suddenly changed your mind?"

"Rosalie, don't be this way."

I looked at Edward, widening my eyes. "I made it worse," I whispered, and hid my face in his shoulder. His hand came to my head.

"Yeah, you just have to let them do what they do."

"I can't stand this," I said, lifting up to look at him.

"I know." He pulled my chin toward him and kissed me.

"I'm going alone," Rosalie said. "Without you, Emmett. I'll see you next weekend." She left through the kitchen.

"They better not expect me to fake an accent," Emmett said, slinging his Rastafarian wig over his shoulder and following her. When he didn't come back, I assumed they went together.

I rested on the sofa a bit longer while Edward finished preparing dinner, and then we brought Masen to the kitchen to eat. It was just the three of us, no bickering or arguing, only smiles and laughs. Even our two carved pumpkins smiled as they flickered at us on the table--one white and toothless, the other orange with lots of pointed teeth. For some reason, the teeth of Edward's pumpkin reminded me of the bread.

"Oh god!" I said, my hand flying to my forehead. "I forgot the garlic bread. I suck at making dinner for you. First I make you finish the cooking, and then I forget a whole part of the meal."

"It's okay," Edward said. "I love helping you, and who needs bread when we have all this delicious pasta?"

Edward helped with the dishes, and then we both gave Masen his bath. Edward wasn't usually around when I bathed Masen, and I noticed how different he was acting having his daddy there. Though he always loved his bath, he was splashing and giggling even more than usual.

"You should wash him," I said, handing Edward the cloth.

When Masen was down for the night, Edward and I flipped through the television stations until we settled on some horror flick. We were alone in the living room of our Stanford apartment, which a year ago had only been a dream or a possibility. Back then, the dream was beautiful and perfect, and all we needed. We didn't see then that Edward would be studying nearly every free moment he found because, between work, class and sleep, he had no choice if he wanted to keep up his grades. We also didn't see that Edward and I would be struggling to find time together, and when we did find it, we would hold onto it for as long as we could. We couldn't have seen all that, because through our far away and dreamy eyes, all we saw was that Edward would be living his Stanford dream, and we'd be together, and everything would be perfect, every single moment filled with happiness.

That wonderful weekend I'd spent with Edward and Masen, our time together at the beach, had been an escape from reality. Though I'd thought it had reawakened me, it had actually clouded my mind. I wouldn't give that weekend up for anything--the time we shared, the memories we made, the fun we had--but I'd allowed it to fool me. While that weekend did reopen my eyes to my reasons for being here, reminding me that it wasn't where we were or what we were doing that mattered most, but what mattered most was that we were together. Even if we ended up in a shack, we would be together.

But the truth I had been slowly coming to realize was even if togetherness mattered most, it wasn't _all_ that mattered. And on Monday, when I'd fled from Caius, it hadn't been merely out of guilt of being with Caius; it had been out of the unfairness of my ability to be anywhere I wanted at any moment, while Edward had none of that freedom. I made a decision sitting on the sofa, not watching the slasher movie playing on our television: I'd apologize for my recent embarrassing behavior, and ask Caius again about the job at the Bed and Breakfast. I'd look into bringing Masen with me, just as Caius was allowed to bring Riley with him. And with this thought--this decision--I felt the air around me and I breathed it in, as fresh and pure as the air I'd breathed at the beach. But this was real. This wasn't me sending my problems off in the tide. This was about me taking hold of my inner troubles and getting control over them. This was me stepping out of my hibernation.

I settled in closer to Edward, his arms around me, his fingers absently twirling the ends of my hair as we sat on the sofa, all the lights in the apartment off. I made love to Edward differently that night, and it wasn't through sex. We made love in our quiet closeness, each in our separate mind, but completely wrapped up in each other. We fell asleep watching the movie in the place where we once had only hoped to be. Even if it hadn't turned out exactly how we'd expected. Even if sometimes we felt lost, or weren't sure where we were headed, or where we'd end up, because honestly, who in the world really was certain? We'd made it to this place. Our place. We were somewhere.

* * *

Review please. :)

What do you think of Bella finding her place all on her own? Do you think Edward could have helped get her to this place faster, or do you think this is something she needed to search within herself to find? Or... something else?


	33. Flood

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

**_N__ot Without You_ discussion thread at Twillighted: www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=7726&p=829227#p829227**

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* * *

  
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Not Without You

Chapter 33: Flood

The rain outside the window hit heavy and huge, like over-sized water balloons breaking and splashing against the glass. So strong, it crashed thorough the window and began to pour into our room fast and quite beautifully, like a waterfall. Everything else had vacated--the desk, the chest of drawers, the screen, the baby's crib, even the door was gone, or filled in by sheetrock. There was no way out. Edward was sleeping soundly next to me. I shook his arm.

"What's happening?" I asked.

He lifted up onto his elbow, his head in his hand, as he looked around the room.

"Our room is flooding," he said, as if he'd said the sun was shining, and wondered why I bothered waking him to ask the question.

"What should we do?"

By this time, the water had reached the height of the bed. Perhaps, at this point in a dream such as this, the bed might act as a raft. But not in my dream. In my dream, the bed disappeared out from under us, leaving us both flailing about in the rushing water.

"Edward," I called as we separated, overtaken by waves shoving us under.

He didn't answer because he couldn't. And he couldn't because he was sinking. He didn't appear to even be _trying_ to swim. Had he given up already?

"Edward!" I called again, with a gulp of water. I dove down after him, working every muscle in my body, reaching with fingertips and pointing with my toes to get to him. He was so far away. I swam harder. I caught his arm and kicked my way to the surface of the water, now just a few feet from the ceiling. The sound of Edward's gasping breath was like music--a symphony. I could hear it--strings, brass, and bass. But soon the symphony turned into a different sound, a desperate sound, a familiar sound--the sound of my baby crying.

In some dimension between dream and reality, as I tried to get to Masen, my mind revealed to me that Edward was not only drowning, but I was allowing it. I would tell him today about my intention to look for a job. My plans to help him. I exited my flooding dream and entered my bedroom, where I was still soaked and freezing. I shivered in my cold sweat and wiped myself with the sheet, as the sounds of Masen's cries hit me all over again. They were real. I wasn't dreaming anymore, but he was still crying. I shivered my way to those sounds that drilled through my heart from the kitchen. Edward was pacing the floor, whispering to Masen and rubbing his back.

"What's wrong?" I asked, my voice coming out thick and damp.

"He has a fever. I gave him some baby Motrin. I'm just waiting for it kick in."

I reached for Masen. Edward handed him over. Our baby was warm, warmer than I remembered Jasper ever being. Masen was a heater on my skin, chasing my goosebumps away.

"Have you taken his temperature?"

"It's 101."

"Maybe I'll give him a bath."

"That's a good idea," Edward said. "Will you be okay?" His eyes shifted past me, toward our room. "I really have to finish studying."

"You haven't finished yet? What time is it?" I looked at the clock on the microwave to answer my own question. It was just after 3:00. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"I wanted you to get some sleep, Bella. Besides, I was already awake."

"Okay. Go study," I said. "I'll start the bath."

After returning from work, Edward had spent the night poring over his books. He'd been focusing so much of his attention on his other classes that he'd allowed himself to fall behind in his ethical reasoning course. It was one of those courses he'd thought was common knowledge until he found himself way behind in the reading on the eve of an exam.

As the tub filled, Masen's cries had mellowed, and I sat on the covered toilet trying to nurse him. He only took a little before turning his head and refusing any more.

Instead of his usual splash-all-over play, Masen sat still in the bath, staring ahead. He looked like he was about to fall asleep in the tub. I rubbed him down with a wet cloth. After the bath, he felt cooler to me. I was exhausted and achy myself, but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep unless he was next to me to feel and monitor, so I brought him to bed, clad only in a diaper, and we fell asleep next to each other under the glow of Edward's desk lamp. Edward took a moment to kiss us both before we drifted off.

"His temperature is down," Edward said through a cave of darkness.

It was nearly noon when I awoke, Masen still asleep beside me. I felt his head, and he was burning up. Hotter than last night.

"Masen?" I said, my hand on his chest, shaking him gently. He didn't move, and his breathing seemed fast.

"Masen!" I shook him a little harder, and he stretched his legs with a moan, but didn't wake up.

I kissed him, and his forehead scorched my lips. Without pausing to dress him or take his temperature, I pulled on some jeans and shoes, held Masen close, and rushed out the back door to Edward's car. It would be much faster than taking the shuttle. The air was cool outside, and it seemed to refresh Masen as he opened his eyes for the first time.

"Mase? How are you doing, little sweetie?"

He closed his eyes again, his hot head against my shoulder. I felt the warmth through my shirt. Checking my watch, I saw that Edward wouldn't have been through with his exam yet. _What should I do? Should I interrupt him or should I wait to hear what the doctor said?_ Edward had been up all night studying. He couldn't blow this exam. If I called, and it was nothing, he'd come anyway. He'd leave mid-test.

I called Emmett to ask his advice, but he didn't answer, so I left a message filling him in on Masen.

At the hospital, they admitted Masen right away, in front of others who had been waiting. In his room, it took two doctors and two nurses to check him out. I stood there, wringing my hands and biting into my lip. _Why more than one doctor for a fever? Just bring the fever down; give him something._ But they didn't. And every time I asked about him, someone or the other would tell me that they were working on it.

They kept hovering over him, testing him. They checked his temperature, his heartbeat, his eyes, his ears, his throat. A doctor removed his diaper and examined it, asking me when the last time he'd urinated was. I told him I couldn't be sure. Edward may have changed him in the middle of the night while I slept. They hooked Masen up to an IV, and that was when I lost it. Tears streaked my face all at once, as quickly as the water had broken through our bedroom window in my dream. Dry cheeks one second, soaked the next.

My tiny baby, all helpless in the bed, sleeping and hooked up.

I touched his face. "Mommy's here, Masen, and I love you, baby."

I struggled with my phone, fumbling over the buttons for Edward's correct number. I kept hitting the wrong ones.

"You need to take your call outside the room, love," the nurse said, and I wanted to scream at her for calling me 'love.' Instead, I shook my head frantically at her, standing firm in my spot, my eyes darting to Masen, while stretching my thumb over the numbers.

"You may come right back in when you're done." She guided me out the door and shut it. I stood, facing the brown door, so close I could make out the patterns in the wood grain. My finger came to it and rubbed over the grain, softly and gently, as if the door was my baby's face. Edward answered on the first ring.

"Edward!" I sobbed.

"Bella? What's going on?"

"I n-need you. Masen needs you."

"Love? Calm down, okay?"

I did the opposite, feeling near hysterics.

"Bella?"

I tried to answer, but all that came out were sobs.

"Bella?"

"What?!"

"Turn around, love."

My turn was slow, but as soon as I saw him standing there, my phone was on the ground and I was in his arms. "You're here."

"Emmett sent me a text."

"Edward, I didn't know it was this bad."

"How bad?"

"Nobody has told me anything. They've hooked him up to an IV, though. That can't be good, can it? Do you know? Because Carlisle, maybe he--"

"It means he needs nourishment or fluids. It's not good, but it's not necessarily horrible either. Okay? Calm down, and let's go find out what's happening." He picked my phone up off the floor and guided me into the room.

Edward demanded information, his arm tight around my shoulders. The doctor with black-rimmed glasses pushed onto his forehead came over to us.

"Your baby has a virus, and the high fever has caused moderate dehydration. We're working on re-hydrating him and bringing the fever down."

"Is it because… he hasn't been eating as much? He wouldn't… he wouldn't nurse." I looked at the doctor. "Should I have known?"

"Those are signs, yes, but they're also normal viral symptoms that rarely lead to dehydration this quickly. High fevers use up large quantities of fluids, and he subsequently lost more water through sweat and tears. You're not to blame, Mrs. Cullen. You brought him to us in plenty of time."

I glanced over at Masen on the bed, still looking so small on it. I wanted to lie with him. I wanted him to feel me.

"How high is his fever?" I asked.

"It's under 104 now, which is a good sign, considering that when you brought him here, he was nearing 105."

I swallowed something thick in my throat. It didn't feel like saliva.

"How far under 104?" Edward asked, never a fan of generalizations.

The doctor pulled a clipboard off the sink counter and looked it over. "The last we checked, it was 103.7."

Edward nodded. "Can we check it again?"

A nurse heard his question and automatically reached for the ear thermometer. "103.1," she said a few seconds later.

"That's good, Bella," Edward whispered. "It's still going down."

I nodded. My nodding didn't stop.

The doctor squeezed my upper arm. "We've caught it early enough, and we're giving him everything he needs right now. He's going to be fine, Mrs. Cullen."

I turned to Edward and cried into his chest, in relief.

"Bella, he's okay. You know that, right, love?"

"Yes," I said, enclosed in Edward's arms.

"What's wrong, then?"

"If anything ever happened to him-"

"Nothing's going to happen. Masen is fine, Bella. He's going to be just fine. Would it make you feel better if I tried calling my dad?"

"No. I'm okay. I'm just so relieved."

I pulled away from Edward to show him that I was okay. And just as I did that, my stomach started to feel queasy. I swallowed. The air around me grew hot. The room was so hot. I looked at Edward to see if he felt it, too. He was looking back at me. I held my stomach.

"I don't feel… righ…"

Blackness. Arms caught me before I hit the ground. Voices were loud in my ears, vibrating through me like the pounding bass of a drum.

"Doctor!" Edward said, and it sounded so slow.

Someone put me in a chair. I felt it beneath me. Someone else, or maybe it was the same person, bent me forward and told me to breathe. I took a breath and saw the ground. I took another breath, and the room began to lighten again.

"Bring her out here," the doctor said.

Edward lifted me and laid me down on a rolling bed just outside the room. I lay on my side, my eyes open.

"What happened to me?"

The doctor's face lowered to my level. "You've felt the height of emotions," he said. "First panic and then relief. It's not uncommon to pass out during trauma like this. I see it a lot."

I nodded.

"I want her examined," Edward said.

"It's okay," I said. "The doctor says it's normal. We need to focus on Masen."

"Bella, don't argue with me. You've been continuing to lose weight, you're paler than I've ever seen you, and you just passed out. Whether you care or not, I want to know that nothing is wrong."

"Do you agree to an examination, Mrs. Cullen?" the doctor asked.

Tears found my eyes again, and I nodded. "It's Swan," I said. "Isabella Swan." I couldn't take hearing them call me Mrs. Cullen at that moment, because it wasn't true. And my fault or not, that fact hurt.

Edward took my hand and I clung to his fingers.

In the examination room, a few doors down from Masen, I changed into a hospital gown, peed in a cup, and then a nurse checked my vitals, and had me fill out a questionnaire form, while interrupting me to ask about my symptoms. I asked her about Masen, but of course she didn't know the answers because he was in a different room.

When she had me step onto the scale, I made the mistake of looking as she weighed me. I closed my eyes fast, but it wasn't fast enough.

"What?" Edward asked me as I made my way back to the bed.

I shook my head.

"Bella, something obviously happened just now. Tell me what it was."

"I weigh ninety-eight pounds, Edward. Are you happy?!" I closed my eyes and brought the inside of my wrist to my forehead.

Edward was clearly taken aback. We both knew I was thin, but just how thin, we weren't sure. I hadn't weighed myself since my ring stopped fitting.

I touched his chest. "I'm so sorry." I shook my head. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. Of course you're not happy."

He put an arm around me and kissed my cheek. "It's okay, Bella. That's why we're here. We'll get to the bottom of this." His hug was tight. He was holding me, but it wasn't for me; it was for him. I tried to hold him back just as tight.

A new doctor entered. He was Japanese and appeared young for a doctor--more like the age of most students I saw around Stanford. And his white coat, appearing too big for him, didn't do anything to help that. I looked closer at him. There were lines in his forehead. Did he really look too young to be a doctor, or was I just older? Not so much in age, but in mentality, in life experience.

He checked my chart. When he spoke, his voice was soft. "You're underweight," he said, not looking at me. "And your temperature is lower than I'd like it to be. I'm ordering blood work." He popped his pen and wrote hurriedly on some form, then handed it to me. "Do you know where the lab is?"

"I'll take her," Edward said.

"No. You go with Masen," I said. "I'll be fine by myself."

I asked directions to the lab. The last time I'd had a blood test, I was pregnant. I'd grown accustomed to them back then, but enough time had passed that I was nervous all over again. I had to look away when the needle was inserted into my arm. It seemed to take forever. How much blood did they need? I'd glanced over the form when the doctor had handed it to me. Two areas were checked, and acronyms I had no idea the meanings of were written in at the sides.

I returned to the exam room--an easier find than the lab had been--to wait for the results, which I was told would take about an hour. Edward took turns visiting my room and Masen's, and informed me of Masen's progress, whose fever was now down to 100.6. I looked at the clock. We'd been at the hospital for four hours, and I wondered how many more hours we would spend here. I lay down on the bed in wait of my blood test results. I didn't technically need to be lying down; I wasn't _that_ sick. But I did so anyway and I closed my eyes, remembering that morning's dream, which in turn, had me thinking of my mother.

Growing up, many a morning, she'd greet me with the question,"Do you remember the dream you had last night?" My answer was usually yes, and she would smile.

"Was it good or bad?" she'd ask.

I'd answer her honestly, because it wasn't really important to her which kind of dream it had been; it was only important that I'd remembered.

"A child who remembers her dreams every night is a happy child," she'd say.

I didn't ask where she got that information, nor did I challenge her because there seemed to be truth enough in her theory. I was happy, after all.

"I'm doing well," she'd say, nodding to herself.

As a mother, she _had _been doing well back then, so well in fact, that now, a random thought of her could take me by surprise as I remembered how suddenly she'd stopped "doing well" the moment she learned of my pregnancy. It had worked like a switch: good mother/poor mother, and no in between. Although, since graduation she'd put a bit more effort into our relationship than before. She'd kept in touch, talking to me about any and every issue except for my present or my future. Typically our conversations would revolve around her life or Masen's most recently reached milestone--safe subjects for our now delicate relationship. We were much like an electrical cord with a tear in it. One wrong move or yank, and sparks would fly--they'd burn.

I opened my eyes, restless now in my wait for the results and my worry for Masen. I found a nurse and asked if I could wait in Masen's room.

Holding the backside of my gown closed, I bent over and felt Masen with my lips. His skin felt nearly normal to me, only slightly warm. I took a seat next to Edward, and we linked fingers, watching over our resting baby.

"Your test?" I said to Edward.

His fingers brushed my arm. "Don't worry about it," he said.

"You left it?"

"I completed enough of it before I got Emmett's text. I won't get an A, probably not a B either, but I didn't fail."

"But you studied so hard."

"Bella-" his eyes bore into mine "-the only thing that matters to me right now is the health of the two people I love most in the world. Everything else is trivial. Don't make it more than it is."

"Drowning," I said.

"What?"

"You're drowning. You take on too much for one person."

"Right now, yeah, maybe I'm drowning. But before my fiancée and our baby were in hospital beds, my head was above water, Bella."

The doctor entered with a manila folder, and motioned for me to follow him. I didn't want to leave Masen. I took his fingers. If only he'd look at me and know I was here.

"Will you stay with him, Edward?"

"I won't move until you come back." He kissed me. "Be well," he said against my forehead. "Please be well."

Back in my own exam room, cold and empty, my doctor opened his folder and checked it over, as if he didn't already know what he was going to say. His pause made me nervous.

"Your results show that your red blood cell count is low. You have iron deficiency anemia," he said, and this time he looked at me. "Your red blood cells carry oxygen to your organs, so when you are low on red blood cells, your body isn't getting the necessary oxygen. That explains your fatigue."

"Anemia? But that's not bad, is it? I've heard of it before."

"It's treatable. Untreated it could develop into severe iron deficiency anemia, which, in some cases, requires a blood transfusion. I've written you a prescription for iron supplements, and I suggest eating food high in iron. Red meats would be the best for your body to absorb the iron it needs. How much weight have you lost and in what amount of time?" he asked.

"Fourteen pounds in… three months."

"Your appetite has decreased since then?"

I nodded. "Sometimes I can't eat," I said.

"Any changes in your menstruation?" He lifted a page on my chart and seemed to answer his own question. I saw him give a nod. "You're breast feeding. Any changes in your milk supply?"

"I haven't been producing as much, but I thought it was natural because Masen was drinking less."

"Do you produce enough to fill him or are you supplementing with other liquids?"

"I give him milk in a sippy cup during meals," I said.

He brought his hand to his chin and nodded. "Have you been through any recent trauma or life changes?"

I began listing my changes: the move to Stanford, leaving my father, my strained relationship with my mother, Edward starting school and work, Alice and Jasper leaving, my feelings of confusion and inadequacy.

"Emotional stress can be a cause of appetite change," he said. "But at the same time, the anemia may increase the effects of your stress, so what we have here is a cycle." He made a circle with his fingers that reminded me of my elementary science teacher showing us how the earth rotates the sun. "With the right diet, vitamins, and tackling the causes of any anxiety, we can get your health under control. What do you do for you?"

I thought hard--I squinted, I reached, I drummed my fingers over my leg. "Sometimes I take a bath," I said, though I couldn't remember the last bath I'd taken.

"You need to work on you. Some mothers feel selfish when they take time for themselves, but it's a must for your mental health. In this case, it would be selfish of you _not_ to think of yourself. Do you understand?" He paused and looked at me with his head tilted and his lips pulled tight.

"Yes."

"Until your appetite increases, I want you to eat high protein and high calorie foods, and take your iron supplements regularly. We need to get your weight up at least ten pounds. If you find yourself feeling full quickly, I suggest eating five or six smaller meals throughout the day, rather than three main meals. Breastfeeding also uses up a lot of your calories, which is likely the reason your weight gain attempt hasn't been working for you thus far."

He gave me a list of high calorie, healthy foods, and warned me away from turning to junk foods just for the calories. I also received a list of foods to avoid because they would absorb the iron that I needed. It appeared I had some studying of my own to do. I left the office with a stack of papers and a lightness that came from simply knowing that I had a name or a reason behind my recent afflictions.

When I entered Masen's room both he and Edward were sleeping--Masen on his bed, Edward in a plastic chair, the side of his head against the wall. My little baby was still hooked up, but the doctors and nurses were gone, which gave me hope that he was nearly over this. I felt his head and his cheeks; they felt cool, and I breathed easy. I kissed him, then sat by Edward, pulling his head to my shoulder. He'd had even less sleep than I'd had the night before.

"Bella," he said, and kissed the side of my neck.

I reached up and placed my hand on his cheek, holding him against my shoulder. "Rest," I said.

"How are you? What did the doctor say?"

"I'm anemic," I said, and Edward lifted his head. "I'm okay. I have a bunch of reading material, vitamins, and a diet or several to follow." I raised the stack of pamphlets and multi-colored papers in my hand.

He lifted my opposite hand. "Anemia," he said, kissing my wrist. He held my wrist there, as if attempting to replace the red blood cells I lacked through his lips.

"I called Emmett. I hope you don't mind. I needed to talk to someone. I was going crazy."

"Of course I don't mind."

"Masen's already better, you know?"

"I know. You should rest, Edward. You have school tomorrow. We can talk about this later."

He pulled me by my arm onto his lap and held me almost too tightly. "Bella," he whispered into my hair.

* * *

It was dinnertime when we entered our apartment. Emmett had burgers waiting for us, and he stood up as we walked in. He hugged me, then took sleeping Masen from Edward.

"Do you mind if I put him to bed?" Emmett asked. And that touched my heart so deeply that I couldn't tell him no. Edward and I followed him though, because none of us wanted to be away from Masen. Edward even moved his screen out of the way.

We ate our hamburgers seated on the bedroom floor. I took my vitamin and ate as much as I possibly could. I couldn't finish the burger, and I wrapped the remainder and refrigerated it so I could eat the rest later.

Edward and I went to bed early; he ignored his studies.

"Did the doctor explain your weight loss?" he asked.

I chewed on a fingernail. There was no way to avoid telling him. I had to be honest.

"He thinks my appetite change is due to emotional stress."

He turned onto his side, his head resting on his hand, and he took my finger from my lips and brought it to his. "What is it? What's been bothering you?"

"It's just me. My thoughts. I brought it on myself. It's okay now, though."

"No it isn't." He sat up. "You weigh ninety-eight pounds. You're anemic. It's not okay. What is on your mind? Why do I have to pull it from between your teeth whenever something is bothering you? This is fucking scaring me, Bella." His voice grew firmer and louder. "You owe it to Masen and to me to take care of yourself, or talk to me if something is wrong. Please?" He seemed angry and sad at the same time. His eyes watered and he kissed my forehead.

"Edward, Edward." I pulled his face down so that his lips met mine and I kissed him. "I love you."

"You love me, but you won't talk to me. Even now?"

"The doctor suggested that the stress began with all the changes in my life happening one after the other, and then increased because since we've moved here, I've felt… less than adequate."

"You've always been more than adequate."

"To you, Edward. I believe that's how you see me, but to me it's different. And maybe it's because of what other people have placed in my mind. Maybe people like Phil and my mom got the wheels turning, but this is how I feel about myself, and as much as I try to fight it, I can't. I have to do something with myself. Something productive and helpful to you and our family."

"Something like what?"

"Like get a job."

"You don't have to."

"Do you want me to talk to you, or not?"

"I'm sorry." He squeezed my hand. "Sorry. Yes, talk to me."

"It's been plaguing me for a long time that I don't contribute anything to our family. And you do it all. I hate it."

"You take care of Masen. He's so happy. You contribute more than you know by being the mother you are. He needs you."

"He needs me, yes, but he needs you too. I want to go to work."

"Do you have something in mind?"

"I want to ask Caius again about the job at the bed and breakfast. He says the owner sometimes lets him bring Riley to work. And Masen hasn't made it to the top of the list at the daycare yet."

"You've thought about this."

"Almost everyday," I said.

"Bella, I don't want you to over-exhaust yourself, but if not working is plaguing you and making you unhappy, then work. I want you to do whatever makes you feel good."

He pushed hair back on my head. "Most of all Bella, I want you to fucking _talk_ to me." He squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm sorry for swearing, but goddamn it, look what it's come to. Your health is at stake."

I brought my hand to his face. "I'm sorry. Masen and I both sick at the same time, and you have school and work-"

His fingers wrapped my wrist, and slid up and down my skin. "Stop. Stop thinking and talking about me. Start thinking and talking about you. _That_ is my point. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes."

"None of this matters if you're not well, if you're not here. Sometimes I think Stanford means more to you than it does to me."

"And that is one reason I have trouble opening up to you, Edward. I'm afraid that if I admit that I'm the slightest bit unhappy, you'll quit school. You've even said you would give it up for me before."

"I'm not going to just walk out, Bella, but if it comes to your health, losing you, then I would give it up. Of course I would."

"I'm okay. It's anemia, I have vitamins. I'm not going to _die_."

"Bella, have you ever had to sit in the hospital wondering if I was okay? If something really horrible was wrong with me? If I was sick or incurable or anything close to that?"

I looked down and shook my head. "No."

"Then don't blow off my worry for you, okay?"

"You're right. I didn't think of it that way."

"Come here, love. Come here." He lifted me into his arms, his hand gripping my hair at the base of my neck, holding tight. He took a deep breath. "I'm glad you're okay, though. Of all the things going through my mind that could have been wrong with you, anemia wasn't one of them, but in comparison to what _was_ in my mind, it is absolutely the lesser of all the evils. I'll help you through this. You'll get better, love."

"I'm sorry that I let myself get sick, Edward."

"Bella, no, no… you didn't _let_ yourself. It's not your fault; it just happened. But if you're ever not feeling right, you have to tell me about it. Don't pretend anymore."

I lay back, my head on the pillow and I brought my arm over my eyes. "Edward, can I tell you something?"

He moved my arm from my face. "Tell me anything."

"Pretending is something I've always done. Even when I was younger, I would pretend everything was fine when I knew it wasn't. Like when I moved to Forks, before I met you, I didn't like it at all and I missed Phoenix, but I never told my mom or my dad because I didn't want to make either one of them feel bad. It's how I cope, and it's hard to stop."

"I know it's something you've always done. I've been trying to get you to stop for a while now. But if it's how you cope, you can see now that it isn't working, can't you?"

I turned over onto my side, my back to him. His hand drifted over my hair and down my back.

"You never have to pretend with me. I don't want you to."

"I'll try to stop," I said.

"Bella, turn around and face me. I need you facing me right now."

When I turned, he lay with me, pulling me into his embrace, his forehead resting on mine.

"Are we okay?" I asked.

"You and me? We're more than okay. We've been through a lot today, but Masen is better--he's almost well--and we've got each other, don't we?"

"Yes, we do." I kissed him. "We always do." Then I climbed out of bed.

"Where are you going?"

"To get Masen."

I brought him back to our bed, where Edward and I slept close, our hands clasped, Masen between us.

* * *

Review please. :)


	34. Clear

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**Join the_ N__ot Without You_ discussion thread at Twillighted: www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=7726&p=829227#p829227 **

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 34: Clear

Weeks passed, and I was feeling better--less tired, less cloudy. Strange, but even my eyesight seemed clearer, rooms brighter, regardless of the graying skies. Both Edward and Emmett were reminding me to take my vitamins and eat, to the point of irritation.

"I'm eating!" I had to start saying every time I passed one of them.

I kept little bowls of mixed nuts and raisins placed around the apartment, so I could toss a few in my mouth whenever I happened by, and I munched on them while nursing Masen. My weight was at one-hundred-two, which was relieving to me because I had at least made it over the one hundred mark.

I had jumped on Edward and hugged him when I'd reached one hundred, because being even two pounds below that weight scared the hell out of me. He had no idea why I jumped on him, but he hugged me back anyway, laughing.

My ring was still around my neck. I tried it on my finger, and it wouldn't fall off when I turned my hand upside down anymore, but it was still loose enough for me to worry about losing.

It was Thursday night, Edward was at work, Masen was down, and Emmett was in the kitchen with his poker buddies. He'd never had them over before because of Masen, and this time he'd made them wait in the courtyard until Masen was asleep before letting them in. I couldn't be sure if they were having any fun, though, always having to be shushed by Emmett when the volume of their laughter rose.

I was happy to not be exhausted by 7:30, and actually have a moment to pick up a book, relax on the sofa, and read.

I'd apologized to Caius weeks ago--an apology he'd said was unnecessary--and he'd set up an interview for me. I was so excited for the interview that I could barely concentrate on my book just thinking about it.

"Love!" Emmett called from the kitchen. "Come and play with us."

I went to the kitchen, where he and four other guys surrounded the table, which was topped with beer bottles, chips, and a plate of Red Vines. The sight of Caius sitting on the other side of the table surprised me. He waved.

"You play poker with them?" I asked.

"Not regularly. I ran into Emmett, and he invited me after I intrigued him with my knack for what he calls mind-wrestling." He looked over at Emmett. "It's a debate."

"It's a mind-wrestle," Emmett said.

I took one of the Red Vines. "You want me to play?"

"No," most of the guys said, while Emmett and Caius said, "Yes."

I declined. "How about I just make nachos for you?" I plucked the bowl off the table, scattered some chips over a pan, and let the oven heat up while I grated cheese over the tops of the chips.

"Come on, love," Emmett said. "We're not playing poker tonight."

"The hell we're not," said one of the guys, grabbing for the deck of cards that Emmett held away.

"We're playing a drinking game," Emmett said, and none of the guys argued with that. He dealt the cards. "It's called Up the River, Down the River, and you're playing, B. Sit down," he ordered, grabbing a beer from the center of the table. He popped the cap and set it in front of the seat next to him. "Relax and be a kid for once."

Asking me to be a kid for once was too enticing to pass up. I joined them, but when it came my turn to drink, which happened quite often, I took barely a sip, mostly just allowing the beer to touch my lips.

"She's not even drinking," a guy said. He was skinny and small, appearing young, not even out of high school. "You're supposed to take a drink. A gulp."

I looked across the table at him. "What's your name?"

"Craps."

"Your name is Craps?"

Emmett laughed.

Craps shrugged. "It's a long story. I like to gamble." He took a _gulp_ of his beer.

"Craps is the only game he can win," said the friend sitting next to him at the end of the table. "I don't know why he bothers with poker, unless you get off on losing your money." He hit the back of Craps's head, and I could tell that Craps was the one they all loved to pick on.

"I've beaten you before," Craps said.

"Taking a hand does not equal taking the pot at the end of the night, Craps."

"Well, Craps," I said, "I can't get drunk. I'm breastfeeding a thirteen-month-old." I smiled when his face turned red.

Emmett and Caius laughed, clearly the only two comfortable talking about breastfeeding.

I came to the conclusion that when a bunch of guys got together, as much as they loved giving each other a hard time, they were essentially flirting with one another, little man-crushes developing. I wondered what Emmett would say if I brought that to his attention. Worry of getting myself trapped in a mind-wrestle won over the laugh I might have gotten out of Emmett's reaction, so I kept my mouth shut.

Two games and half a beer later, the oven timer went off, and I topped the nachos with diced tomatoes and peppers, and brought it to the table where hands clawed at them. Just as I took my seat, Edward entered through the back door and paused.

"What's up?"

"Just in time," Emmett said. "Have a seat, Edward." He motioned for him to join us, even though there were no more chairs available. "Bella's kickin' our asses."

That made me laugh more than it should have.

"Hey, Edward," Caius said, standing and reaching a hand out across the table. Edward slapped his hand the way guys do to show they're friends--too familiar for a handshake.

"Hey."

"Sit here, _love_," I said, standing up and pulling on Edward's arm. He stood strong in his spot.

"No."

My smile faded. "What's wrong?"

"I need to study." He headed out of the kitchen, and I followed him.

In our room, he was behind Masen's screen, kissing his own fingers, then placing them on Masen's cheek. He removed his jacket, and folded it over the desk chair.

"You're a cute daddy," I said, taking his hand and hugging his bicep. Then, feeling his muscle next to my cheek, I had to touch it. I drifted my hand up under his shirt sleeve. "Why don't you play with us? Study after."

"Drunk study? I don't think so." He stepped away from my grasp and sat in the chair.

"Are you mad?"

"No."

"What's the matter then?"

"Bella." He leaned his arm over the back of the chair and looked at me. "Why do you have to be drunk tonight, of all nights?"

I sat on his lap and placed his arms around me, since he hadn't done it on his own yet.

"Edward, why do you have to be sober tonight, of all nights?" That got a little laugh out of him. I touched the corner of his mouth. "Besides, I'm not drunk, just buzzed. I only had half a beer. So… are you going to tell me what's wrong?" I rested my head on his shoulder, and his hand came to my hair.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, do you want to lie down with me?"

"That's an offer you know I can't refuse." We moved to the bed, Edward's back resting against the headboard, and this time he willingly pulled me close to him.

I turned on my side, nestling against his shoulder, and touched his cheek with my fingers. "Bad day?"

He nodded and pressed my hand against his face, holding it there, and closing his eyes.

"But you don't want to talk about it?"

"I don't even want to think about it."

"Okay."

"It's times like this, though, when I wish I had a piano. God. I want to play so bad right now."

I lifted my face. "Edward." I ran my fingers through his hair, and he closed his eyes. He hadn't spoken aloud about the piano since we'd left Forks, but I knew he had to have been thinking about it. "What can I do for you?"

"Just let me hold you. You feel so good, Bella."

I dropped my head to his chest, held him tight at the waist, and let him hold me back until I fell asleep on him.

When I awoke, it was past midnight, and my head was on the pillow, not Edward. Edward had been more comfortable. The desk light was on and he was bent over his studies. I heard the laptop keys clicking, and wished for him that they were piano keys instead.

I scooted myself up. "Aren't you tired?"

"I can't sleep." He didn't take his eyes off the screen, and I watched him type.

"What happened today, Edward? You're so sad. Maybe it will help if you talk about it."

His fingers stopped and he turned to me, staring for a moment in thought. Then he clicked a button, closed his laptop, and came to the bed. He sat at the end though, and I reached for him and tugged on his hand until he came closer.

I rubbed his arm, then linked our fingers. "Don't be sad. What is it?"

He looked down at our hands as he spoke. "A little boy was brought into the clinic today. He couldn't have been older than two. He'd fallen bad and hit his head. He had a gash at the back and it was bleeding so fast. It was gushing blood. The mother held a towel to his head." He touched the back of his head where the child's wound must have been. "It was a blue towel, you know, but it looked brown because it was soaked in blood. He had to be rushed to the emergency room.

"They should have taken him straight there. They should never have come to the clinic first, but they were uninsured and thought the clinic would be cheaper. They must not have realized how bad the wound was. But I don't know how they couldn't have, the way it was bleeding. And Bella," he looked up at me, "I don't know if he made it. I couldn't find out anything before I left. But if his parents had brought him straight to emergency, there would be no question of it. He'd have been fine. I thought what idiots those parents were, jeopardizing their son's life with a decision like that. Then I got to thinking about how I left for school when Masen was sick. You know, it's pretty much the same thing. A poor decision. Masen needed a doctor and I didn't see it. You did, thank god. But I didn't. And here I am, judging other parents when that is the last thing they need. They might lose their son."

I ran my thumb over the back of his hand, then dropped my forehead to his shoulder.

"Sometimes life is worse than a nightmare," I said. "But you going to school and those parents taking their son to the wrong place is not the same thing at all. All Masen had was a fever. Babies get those all the time. That's why they make baby Tylenol and Motrin. To bring the fever down. There was no way either of us could have known how much worse it would get."

"I'm just glad I have you, Bella. You saved Masen's life."

My head shot up and I pushed away from him. "Oh God, Edward. Don't say that. I can't even think that our baby's life may have been threatened."

He leaned toward me, and his voice was deep and quiet. "Bella?"

"Yeah?"

He didn't answer. He brought his hand to the back of my head and pulled me in to a kiss. His kisses were slow and I let them be. This was his comfort. He kissed over my face inch by inch, and then down my throat, and when he took off my shirt, he did that slow, too. As rushed as we'd been in our lovemaking in the recent past, this time was snail-slow in comparison--every kiss, every touch, felt and savored, as if it was the first time we'd touched, or possibly the last. He didn't just feel my breasts and between my legs, he felt my arms from my shoulder to my finger tips, and my thighs, up and down. His hands needed my body, and my body wanted his hands. It had been a long time since we'd made love like this, and we reveled in it. We soaked in it. We basked in it.

He rolled over and brought me on top of him, but he hadn't entered me yet. His hands came to my shoulders, and both of them drifted down over my chest my breasts, his thumbs over my nipples, one hand remaining there, while the other one slid fingers down my stomach, and then between my legs, where he pressed and touched and pushed fingers in, then pulled out, teasing me in circles, But it wasn't even teasing, it was more than that. It was really feeling. And his fingers were in me again, and my back arched, as I reached behind myself and touched him, too.

He let out a breath and his eyes closed.

"Bella," he moaned, and it was the first word spoken since we'd begun. I could feel his desire building, and when I knew he was ready, I took his hand out from between my legs, and he held both of my hands, linking our fingers as I lifted up and let him enter me. I leaned down, pushing against his hands as I moved my hips. He pushed against my hands, too, the muscles in his arms flexing as he moved with me. I could feel my peak rising, it was already rolling through my body to my head and my eyes closed. I tried to resist it since I couldn't tell how close Edward was--so much quieter than usual, and I typically gauged his desire by his sounds. I tried to wait for him, but the more I tried, the harder it became, and finally I had to give in. I quickened my pace on top of him. He let go of my hands, held my hips and lifted into me so forcefully, that I was frozen, lost in my orgasm, and then his came, too.

I relaxed against him and kissed his chest. "I love you, Edward."

His hand was moving my hair aside, his thumb caressing up and down the side of my neck. He kissed the top of my head.

"Bella," he said, "aren't you ready to marry me yet?"

I looked at him, and his finger immediately caught my lips.

"Shh," he said. "Don't answer that. Pretend I didn't say anything. Now is not the time to talk about it. Not when you're feeling sorry for me."

Was this on his mind more than I knew? How often did he think about it? It seemed the words slipped out accidentally. He hadn't meant to say them, which made me wonder if this was on his mind a lot, but he kept silent about it. The truth was, in that moment especially, I couldn't even remember my reasons for wanting to wait. I searched for them, but they evaded me. I kissed his finger then removed it from my lips.

"Edward, we're already engaged. I said, yes. All we need to do is set a date. Do you want to set a date?"

"If the date is going to be three years from now, after I graduate, then no. We don't have to set it yet. Let's discuss something more imminent. The holidays. I have finals coming up and I'll be taking time off work to study. Three plane tickets during winter break will be too expensive. We won't be able to afford it. Do you want to drive back to Forks with me?"

"Let's just stay here," I said.

"You don't want to drive?"

I shook my head.

"I could use my grandfather's money for the tickets."

"No, that's not what I mean. That's your savings. You should save that. What I mean is just what I said, let's stay here."

"You don't want to go back at all?"

"It's not that I don't _want_ to go, really. It's just… we'll have plenty of holidays to spend with our families. What if we just spent this one together. The three of us? Quiet? We could get a small tree and decorate it. Aside from that one day we spent in Half Moon Bay, we've never had time alone together as a family. This could be our chance to have two weeks alone. What do you think?"

"I think…" he circled my nose with his, "that is the best idea I've heard in a long time." He turned us over and kissed me. "You're brilliant." He kissed me again. "And beautiful." He kissed me again. "And you've gained weight, which makes you even more beautiful." His kiss was longer this time.

"Thank you, Edward."

"Thank _you_, my Bella."

* * *

My interview at the Pollazzi Bed and Breakfast was on a Saturday, because even though I hoped to bring Masen with me to work, I couldn't possibly bring him to the interview with me.

I followed Caius in my truck, not far from Stanford, and a few minute's drive off Main Street, to a big white house with blue trim. There was an old Redwood and a garden out front, but no flowers were in bloom. The color came from the red berries in the shrubs.

It was still morning, not quite 10:00, on the last day of November, and the clouds above were thick and bushy, and all gray in the middle, but lined with a glowing white. Either they would darken completely by noon and it would rain as it had nearly every day that month, or they would continue to lighten and break apart. The sky wasn't predictable here as it had been in Forks. It often fooled me, dropping rain on our heads quick and fast, and then drying up for the rest of the day. Or it began sunny only to rain for the entire day and night. I decided that the Bay Area sky wanted to fool us, that it played games, even deceiving weather forecasters.

"I heard when I left the other night, you guys ended up playing poker. Did Craps win?" I asked, meeting Caius at the driveway.

Caius laughed. "Emmett won, of course. He has this talent for reading faces, but I've figured out a way to beat him next time."

"How's that?"

He brought a hand to his forehead as though shielding his face from the sun. "Cover my eyes."

I smiled. "I'll keep that in mind if I ever play him."

We headed up the driveway toward the cement porch, enclosed by a white fence that edged the entire front of the house. A two-person swing, off to the side, hung from the overhang on a metal chain, and glided a bit in the breeze.

"He has a way with mind-wrestling, doesn't he?" Caius asked.

"I thought you called it a debate."

"Yeah. Don't tell him I said so, but that's mind-wrestling. He comes up with arguments straight out of left field. Philosophical shit that actually makes sense. He's freakish."

I laughed. "Can I at least tell him you called him a freak?"

"I don't care. Tell him whatever you want." Caius held the front door open for me, his hand on my back as I entered.

"I'm nervous," I said.

"Don't be. Mrs. Pollazzi is a quirky lady, but you'll love her. You'll see." He took my jacket and hung it on the brass coat tree. It's branches were empty aside from our two coats.

The entrance was a gleaming mahogany wood, with a staircase straight ahead. Off to the right, the living room was carpeted in blue, like the trim out front. The walls in there were paneled with the same mahogany wood as the entryway floors. A crystal chandelier sparkled bright, lighting the entire room from above the sofa, two plush chairs, and a coffee table. Behind the sofa against the wall was an enclosed glass bookshelf. I wanted to check out the books, but thought it best to wait until I was invited. Better than anything, though, was on the other side of the sofa, behind one of the side chairs a baby grand piano. I couldn't help but walk over to it and touch it. I wiped my fingerprint off with the cuff of my sleeve.

"Does this get played?" I asked.

"Not when I'm here," Caius said. "Do you play?"

"No, Edward does. He would love this. God, he _needs_ this."

"Edward plays piano? I might be able to help with that."

"Is this the little girl?" came a high-pitched but grainy voice. "My, you are little, aren't you?"

"I'm Bella," I said. "You're Mrs. Pollazzi?" Her gray hair was wrapped in a bun on her head by matching gray netting, and she wore a shapeless floral dress that fell to her calves and had front pockets. Her hands were tucked in them. I held my hand out to her and she looked at it as if confused by the gesture, then went to the sofa and took a seat.

"How old are you?" she asked. Her voice sounded as if it had aged, but never matured.

"Have a seat, Bella," Caius said, motioning toward one of the chairs. I took one, and he took the other.

"Nineteen."

"And a mother?" Mrs. Pollazzi asked. "Where's the little boy?"

"He's, um, home, probably napping in his crib right now."

"No, not your baby, your boy. The baby's father."

"Oh! Edward? He's home, too, with our son."

"He's sticking it out like this one?" She pulled a hand from her pocket and motioned to Caius.

"Yes, and we're engaged."

"You kids," she said shaking her head at both Caius and me. "You get yourselves into trouble and then some of you… well, some of you find your way out of it. This one here-" she pointed at Caius "-divorced at twenty-five."

"Twenty-four," he said. "And she left me. There was nothing I could do."

"Oh, child, there is always something you can do. Maybe you can't figure out what it is. Or maybe you don't want to figure it out. But don't you go blaming anyone else, now. That's one problem you kids have. Nobody takes responsibility. Always passing the blame. Unless it's an accomplishment. Then you fight to be recognized. I'm no dummy. I'm onto you people." She shook a finger at us as though she'd caught us in a naughty act. "What about you?" She looked at me. "Do you take responsibility?"

"I try to."

"This is not a daycare, you know."

"The babies wouldn't be here at the same time," Caius said. "Besides, Bella wouldn't even be working with the public. She'd be in the kitchen or in the rooms while the guests are out. I don't see the problem with it."

The old woman lifted her head in what may have been a nod, but it never came down. Her face remained pointing upward as if, mid-nod, she was distracted by the ceiling or the chandelier. It made me look up, too. Her face finally came down to land on Caius.

"If you think she can get the job done in time, then okay. I'm not here to deny anyone a chance. Especially a young mother." She looked at me. "Do you like donuts?"

I smiled. "I love donuts."

"I have something for you to taste. If you like them, then you'll be making them for the guests."

I followed her to the kitchen, trying to figure out how old she was. At times she looked so old, like she couldn't be younger than ninety, and it sounded as though it hurt her throat to speak. But her eyes held knowledge or cynicism as if she suspected the people she talked to of trying to pull the wool over her eyes. And when she walked, she held her back straight, and her head high, and she didn't appear any older than seventy.

The kitchen was a large open square, the countertops white and the cabinets above and below the same rich mahogany as the walls in the living room. The sun, having broken up the clouds after all, shone through one huge window above the sink and brightened the room. It was beautiful, and the sight of it made me want to start cooking.

Mrs. Pollazzi had me sit at the table in the center of the kitchen, and brought over a ceramic bowl shaped like a large ivory tulip, and filled with little pastries the size and shape of meatballs. Then she brought over two smaller bowls, one filled with powdered sugar, the other with cinnamon.

"Grab three dishes, Caius," she said.

He handed one to each of us. Mrs. Pollazzi directed me to spoon some sugar onto my plate, and take a few of the little things she called Zeppole.

"They're deep fried dough rounds with a touch of vanilla. Try one plain if you'd like, or dip it in your cinnamon or sugar."

I tried it dipped in the powdered sugar first.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"These are so good," I said. "They're like donut holes, but better."

"Well, of course they're better, silly girl. If I wanted you to eat donut holes, I'd have gone down to the Winchell's down there."

Caius laughed, and then I did too. My laugh surprised me, but only because it felt so different. I hadn't laughed simply because what she said had been particularly funny. I'd laughed because she brought out something familiar inside me. It made me want to take her wrinkled hand in mine, her pointed fingernails poking my palm. I could understand why Caius thought of her as a grandma.

And so my interview was made up of an introduction, a small lecture on responsibility, and a taste test. They told me I'd be baking pastry in the mornings for the guests, and after I cleaned the kitchen, I'd go up and clean any of the six rooms that had been occupied. I'd be finished with work by 2:00 or earlier, depending on how quickly I worked. But I wouldn't start work until January, when their current employee left.

Both of them walked me to the door.

"I had a child once," Mrs. Pollazzi said. "A little girl."

"What happened to her?"

"Why do you assume something happened to her?"

I frowned. "Because you said you had a child _once_."

"Well, nothing at all happened to her. She grew up just like everyone does. She's not a child anymore--hasn't been one for forty-seven years."

I looked up at Caius, who gave a little laugh and a nod. I understood to expect more confusing conversations arising between Mrs. Pollazzi and myself, and it made me wonder a bit if she, like our sky, didn't try to confuse us on purpose for a laugh of her own.

* * *

Please Review. Tell me what you think. :)


	35. Keys

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

**Join the_ N__ot Without You_ discussion thread at Twillighted: www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=7726&p=829227#p829227**

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 35: Keys

I waited until Emmett and Rosalie headed to the airport, but not a second longer, to give Edward his Christmas gift.

"What's this?" Edward asked, standing in the living room, Masen content against his chest, as I held the wrapped box out to him.

"Da!" Masen said, then mouthed two fingers. His baby voice had deepened, making him all the more precious when he spoke.

"Yes, Mase, it's for Daddy. It's your Christmas gift," I said to Edward. "Open it."

"Christmas is four days away."

"But you need this now, so open it and stop complaining."

I brought him to the sofa and made him sit, then took Masen to free Edward's hands. Masen squirmed to the floor, pounded on the sofa cushion, then toddled toward his toy basket. Edward tore his present open, revealing the first edition Hemingway I'd accidentally come across at the local thrift shop. I paid a dollar for it and had no idea what it was really worth. The only reason I'd picked it up from the shelf at all was because the book stood tall, thick, and dark blue among a scattering of pocketbooks. But none of that was really significant to me since Edward's real gift was inside the book.

"_Death in the Afternoon_," Edward said. "Is this a first edition?"

I nodded.

"How did you-? This has to be worth over a hundred dollars. And in this condition…" He turned it over, running a hand along the edges, in search of flaws.

"Open it, Edward."

He opened the cover and onto his lap fell two keys. He picked them up. "You gave me keys?"

"Yes, I gave you keys, but you're asking the wrong question. Ask me what they open."

"What do they open?" He looked sideways at me, and then past me as he jingled the keys at Masen. "Look, Mase," he said, and I turned to see that Masen was going for the potted plant, and Edward had distracted him just in time. Masen came over and lunged for the keys. "Keep them out of your mouth," Edward said. "What do they open, Bella?"

"I'm not telling."

"Am I supposed to guess?"

"Oh, no. You'd never guess. I'm going to show you what they open, but first, just so there's no surprise or confusion or anything, you have to know that they came from Caius."

He laughed. "Is this a joke? Caius gave you keys to give to me?"

"You'll see why. Come on."

I lifted Masen, took the baby backpack, and Edward followed me out of the apartment to the shuttle stop. Though November had been a rain-filled month, December bestowed sunshine. The air was frosty while the sun stung our eyes. We needed those Ray Bans that Emmett had given us a year ago. They were tucked away in a drawer in our room, doing nobody any good at the moment. We took the shuttle to Escondido Village, where I led Edward into the building.

"Is this where Caius lives?" Edward asked.

"Yes, and pretend you live here, too."

"Pretend to whom? Nobody's around."

He was right; the place was almost deserted, most everyone gone for the holidays.

"Well, just in case," I said.

"And how do I pretend to live here? Announce it to everyone I see? 'Hey, I live here.'"

I laughed. "Yes, exactly. Go on in." I held the door open for him, then led him toward the community room and to another door that was locked.

I handed Edward the keys. "You open it."

He turned the key. "And what do we have behind door number two, Masen?" He froze when he saw it. The large black piano in the center of the room, the overhead light reflected in its top.

"Bella…" he said, and his open mouth turned up into a smile. His face lit up. "It's a Steinway. No way. Is this okay? Can we be here?"

"You have the key, don't you? And you live here, right?"

He nodded and walked to the piano. I took Masen from him. "Play for us, Edward. It's your turn to give _us_ a gift."

Before he sat down to play, he kissed me. "Thank you, love. Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me."

"Ove," Masen said, and he got a kiss from both of us for that.

"I think I have an idea what it means, Edward. That's why I gave the keys to you. You can come and play whenever you want. Except, probably not in the middle of the night. And sometimes there might be a waiting list. Caius wasn't sure since he never comes in here."

"Sit with me." He patted the bench, and I sat down next to him while he played. This time, unlike in the past, I held Masen back from banging on the keys while Edward played his song--one he'd memorized or one he'd made up.

"Listen," I whispered to Masen. "Listen to your daddy play."

We were in that room for three hours, Edward playing. Masen had moments of wanting to run in circles, so I chased him around until he wore himself out, and then I nursed him. He fell asleep against my shoulder as we sat on the piano bench, and still Edward played. My back began to hurt, so I brought Masen over to the sofa to lay him down.

"Are you bored?" Edward asked.

"Not even a little." I went back to the bench and kissed his cheek.

"We should have at least brought the book with us so you'd have something to read."

"I don't want to read. I want to hear your heart sing. Keep playing."

"Here, give me your hands," he said, holding out his, the music stopping, the room abruptly quiet.

I gave him my hands and he placed them on the keys, pushing on my fingers, playing his song. It was slower, but the melody was there. I turned my head toward him smiling, and he kissed my lips, both of our hands relaxing against the keys. He took my face, tilting me toward him and he held me there.

"Bella…" he said, still kissing me.

"What?"

He lifted me onto his lap, my knees against the bench on either side of him, his hands on my rear. He rubbed down my thighs and up again.

"Just Bella. That's all. Just you." He smiled as he kissed me, and then I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him a good, long, tight hug.

"I hope you're happy."

"You're here, aren't you?" he said, rubbing my back with both hands. "But thank you, Bella. I needed that. I really _needed_ that."

"I know."

* * *

The sky was a cornflower's center, deep and near purple in color. It was opaque, thick, and almost tangible, as evening let the day go. If your arm was able to reach high enough, you could grab a chunk of the sky and put it in your pocket. We left the sky in one piece and took the shuttle back to our building, but we only entered to grab coats, hats, and gloves. Then we got into Edward's car, Masen snug in his seat, and set out for a local tree farm.

I zipped my coat up, and then took mittens from Masen's bag to cover his hands as the cold air intensified. We chose our small noble fir under the artificial yellow light of several old-fashioned lamp posts. Black iron frames stood tall and thin with hooks at the end, holding lanterns that, appearance-wise, should have been lit with flame instead of electricity.

As the employees trimmed our tree's trunk, shook out the needles, added a stand for us, and wrapped the tree in netting, we toured the farm. Santa sat on his throne near the snack stand, and Edward and I got in line. Masen had never met Santa, and it seemed, as we forced him to that night, that he preferred for Santa to remain a stranger.

"Back him up into me," Santa said.

I tried that, but Masen turned his head, saw the bearded man anyway, and cried.

"I can't do it," I said. "Let's forget it, Edward." I brought Masen back to my chest and he hid his face, his cries calming.

"Why don't you get in the picture with him?" Edward asked.

"You too. We'll all be in it."

"I'm not taking a picture with Santa."

"Come on, big guy, it won't kill you." I tugged on his fingers. "You don't have to sit on his lap." He followed me to Santa and stood behind me while I sat on Santa's lap, holding Masen tight and close, whispering in his ears.

"Mama's got you," I said.

"You watch your hands, Santa," Edward said, and we laughed just as the photo was snapped.

Masen--probably relieved he'd made it out of Santa's clutches alive--smiled as we boarded the wooden horse-drawn sleigh that took us over the snowless grounds of the tree farm. We covered ourselves with the provided flannel blanket and were cozy enough to stay, but apparently that wasn't allowed. Once the sleigh rolled to a stop we were expected to disembark.

We stood in our third and final line of the night to order a small bag of popcorn and some hot cider, which we enjoyed seated on the provided plastic chairs surrounding the fire pit. As the air grew cold enough to show us our own breath, we decided it was time to go home. Masen yawned his agreement.

Edward un-strapped our tree from the roof of his Bug, and positioned it in the corner nook between the wooden shelving unit that held the television and the wall with the big window. The tip of the tree reached my chin. It took just one strand of colored bulbs to light it, and there were three ornaments--the only ones we owned--all from Esme and Carlisle. Masen's hung in the middle, mine to the right, and Edward's to the left, and it was beautiful. We sat together on the sofa and watched the tree, as if the still lights might twinkle or the branches might sway, or it might get up and dance. But it stood as still as our eyes on it.

A near empty pizza box, paper plates, soda cans, and our resting socked feet cluttered the table. Directly across from us, I'd taken one of the empty picture frames and added our family photo with santa. Under the tree was one present for Masen, and he kept playing with the gold, curled ribbon on top. There would be no other gifts under the tree, since I'd already given Edward his, and his gift to me, well, it was too big to fit under our tree.

On Christmas morning, Edward brought my gift out to me from Emmett's room. It was a potted grapevine with a bow wrapped around it.

"I know it's not near as meaningful as the gift you gave me," he said.

I covered my mouth with my hand and shook my head. "I dreamed of this once," I said. "This gift is _us_. Nothing could be more meaningful." I stood up and hugged him.

There was a stake in the center of the pot to train the vine as it grew. The plant was tall, but barren of leaves, dormant for winter. I knew that with the right care, it would be beautiful by spring, and I'd take it out to the courtyard under our bedroom window. For now, I placed it in front of the big window where it would get the most sun. Edward gave me some information on care, watering, and fertilizing. I would come to check on it daily, some days many times, as if it were another baby.

"The guy told me that in a pot, it won't produce as much fruit, but I think it will be enough for us. The important thing is pruning."

I still hadn't removed my arms from around Edward's neck, nor did I want to, but Masen had crept under the tree--our own little present--and he was trying to stand up, but the branches were in his way. He gave a frustrated fuss. I laughed and rescued him from the tree--huge to him--and gave him his present to open.

Our gift for him was a puppy on a string with wheels instead of feet so he could pull it around the apartment. He decided to pull it in a circle, and it kept toppling sideways. But he didn't mind whether the puppy was upright or on its side; he was enthralled with how it followed him wherever he pulled it. He smiled and laughed at his new friend.

While most people dined on roasts or turkey, I made what I called Christmas Taco Salad. I added the calories I needed for my weight and the nutrients I needed for my anemia all to one dish. We allowed Masen to stay up later than he ever had that night, and we brought him and two glasses of Champagne to the living room. Masen swung his dog in circles as Edward and I leaned against each other on the sofa. I took a sip of my drink, then rested my head on his chest.

"My mom always wanted the biggest tree," I said. "She wanted one that would touch our ceiling. Masen, don't hit the table. Keep it on the floor." I pointed. "The puppy belongs on the floor."

He looked at me wide-eyed, as if wondering if I was serious. Did he really have to stop swinging it through the air right when he'd discovered how fun it was? "On the floor," I said, pointing again.

He threw it to the ground.

"Roll it," I said, reaching down with my free hand and showing him.

He sat down and pushed it back and forth, then turned it upside down and studied how the wheels worked.

"So you guys had big trees?" Edward asked.

"No. She always wanted the big ones, but they were too expensive. Once we got one that was just a foot or so away from touching the ceiling. She said she was going to buy a bigger tree-topper just so it would touch. But I told her that if she planned on spending money on a tree-topper, she may as well have gone with the bigger tree."

"Always practical, Bella. What did she say?"

"That I was smart. She'd get the big tree next year. But she didn't." I laughed, wondering if she got big trees now with Phil. I felt how strange it was that I didn't know the answer to that. I leaned back against Edward again, glancing at Masen, who was still spinning the puppy's wheels.

"I have a secret for you," Edward said.

I turned and faced him. "What is it?"

"I'm the one who bent the branch on our Christmas tree back home. It wasn't from storage, but I let my mom believe that when she assumed so."

"How did you do that?"

"I was fourteen and insisted on carrying it down from the attic myself. I'd seen Emmett carry a live tree by himself, so I was sure I could carry the fake one. But I dropped it." He laughed. "It slid down the stairs, stopped by that branch, and when I picked it up, I saw it. I set the tree up that year so that the bent branch was in the back, but my mom noticed it anyway because she always needs ornaments in the back as well as the front. I was surprised she actually liked it flawed like that. She turned the tree around, and we've had the bent branch facing forward ever since."

"Your mom is funny," I said.

"She said it was like Grandfather. His back may be hunched when he walks, but he's still loved, and no one tries to hide him. Although, I don't think my dad would mind hiding him every once in a while."

"Leave it to your mom to personify a tree. A fake tree, at that."

Edward kissed me. "You'd do the same thing."

I nodded because he was right. That bent branch was my favorite thing about that tree.

Masen tossed his puppy to the side, through with it for the night. He marched over between Edward's legs and reached up with a, "Da," and a grunt that sounded a bit like "up".

"Come here my little guy," Edward said, lifting him. Masen curled up against his daddy, rubbing his forehead on Edward's chest, his face was buried. Edward kissed his head and I patted his back, and smiled, thinking that the only thing missing on this Christmas evening was a crackling fire.

"Too bad we don't have a fireplace," I said. And when I heard the words come out of my mouth, they clunked heavily, like ice cubes pouring to the wood floor from a tall glass, as I recognized the major flaw in my musing. I often took a perfectly fine moment and came up with at least one missing thing that could make it the ultimate perfection. Had there been a fireplace, would there then be something else about this evening that I could find missing? I remembered way back on my eighteenth birthday, still pregnant, my healthy son growing inside me, as I swung slowly on a swing next to Edward, loving the moment, then wishing aloud that I could see the stars in the sky. Edward had shown them to me under my closed eyes. And then, our day in Half Moon Bay, I'd gone as far as to dream up an alternate universe for us, as if this one wasn't good enough. But of course it was.

I looked at Edward, who was about to say something--probably some way to give me the fire I'd just longed for.

"Come on," I said, taking his hand. "Grab your coat."

We pulled our coats on, and I put Masen's on him, and I took them out the front door, and up I looked at the sky, all the winter stars in close view. They were so low and bright that they resembled sparks from a fire.

"What are we doing out here in the cold?" Edward asked.

"Look up," I said, "We can see every star. Even in December." I smiled up at the sky and I felt Edward squeeze my hand. I'd learned in twenty seconds to live in the moment, and I'd try not to forget it, because it was a wonderful feeling, not pondering over the future or the past, or other people, but only allowing thoughts of us to cross my mind, and the present--right now.

It hadn't mattered how many times I'd heard the phrase, "Stop and smell the roses." That meant nothing to me until I found its meaning on my own. In my case, on Christmas, I'd stopped and gazed at the stars.

* * *

When Emmett and Rosalie left for Forks on December twenty-first, they'd argued their way out of the apartment. When they returned December the thirtieth, they were all smiles, and following almost directly on the heels of their arrival were Alice and Jasper, who barged through our front door, catching us all in complete surprise--shock. I blinked a few times before I believed that Alice was actually standing before me in the flesh. And then I hugged her, rocking us both back and forth, and wouldn't even let go of her as I embraced Jasper, so she was squished between us, nobody complaining.

"What are you doing here?!" Rosalie all but squealed, peeling Alice out of my grasp, as if she were skinning an apple. I didn't make it easy for her to get Alice away from me, but she finally managed it and drew our little friend into her arms. I stared after them as though Alice was some sort of celebrity. It made Jasper laugh.

"What the fu-heck?" Emmett said, throwing a quick glance at me, catching himself mid-curse.

"We couldn't spend New Year's without you," Alice said, and I listened closely, reveling in her childlike voice. I knew I'd missed her, but I wasn't aware of how much until she was standing in front of me. Right there. I could touch her. And I did.

"Bella," she said with a nose-crinkle. "I'm real."

"Did you know about this?" I asked Edward.

"Nobody knew," Jasper said.

"Masen!" Alice said as Jasper picked him up. She took him directly from Jasper, and hugged the baby close before Jasper complained and she had to give him back.

There was a difference in both Jasper and Alice. They were happier. I knew that Jasper's happiness came from his work. He found fulfillment in his life already at the age of nineteen. But Alice's change was from something else. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on. I looked her over, up and down, from right to left, diagonally, trying to figure it out. Then I caught sight of her finger. The one with a ring on it where there hadn't been before. She noticed me eying it and gave me a look that told me to keep quiet. I may have kept her secret, but I didn't keep quiet.

"Alice," I said, as if I were her mother and not her best friend. "You come to my room right now."

She obeyed and Rosalie followed, too. Embarrassed that we hadn't made the bed yet, I quickly threw the covers over, and smoothed the top.

I couldn't say anything. I had to let Alice speak first. She held up her left hand.

"It's a promise ring. And I'm not a virgin anymore."

The second part of her statement, I wasn't expecting. Nor, as it turned out, was Rosalie.

"What do you mean you're not a virgin?" Rosalie asked. "We all know that already."

"No. I _was_ a virgin, Rose. Jasper and I, we never-well, not until we did just recently."

Rosalie's eyes narrowed and she seemed to be mulling this over until something must have snapped. "So that's why Jasper always acted weird when we talked about lingerie or sex. He wanted to, but you didn't."

"Oh, I wanted to, but I promised my mom and myself that I would wait for marriage."

Rosalie laughed until she saw that Alice was serious and that she was the only one laughing. She cleared her throat. "Why didn't you ever tell me?" she asked.

"That's why," Alice pointed at her. "And out of respect for Jasper. He didn't need all his friends and non-friends knowing he was a virgin."

"What changed your mind?" I asked.

"Well, you were right, Bella. Being so close, sharing a bed night after night, it was nearly impossible not to. And I wanted it so bad. I mean, _so_ bad. And Jasper could tell, and god if it didn't take every ounce of his strength to stop us every night."

"But eventually, he didn't stop," I said.

"Bella, you know I was ready because if I hadn't been, Jasper never would have been able to go through with it. And he gave me the promise ring first. Out of respect. We've talked about marriage, we know we're going to marry eventually, but he wanted to make sure that I knew he meant it."

I gave her a quick hug. "Alice, congratulations. And not on having sex, but on your eventual engagement."

"What about you and Emmett?" Alice asked Rosalie. "How are you two doing?"

"We're fine, why?" Rosalie shrugged.

"Because Bella emailed me. She said you two haven't been getting along."

Rosalie's eyes shot to me and I squeezed mine shut.

"It wasn't gossip, Rose, I promise. It was concern."

Rosalie laughed. "I don't know why you're so concerned that you're emailing Alice about it. Emmett and I have always bickered. That's a form of foreplay for us."

"It isn't the same kind of bickering," I said. "You two really get mad at each other."

"But we make up every time. There's nothing wrong with us. We're fine."

I let my gaze linger on her. Did she really mean that they were fine, or was she trying to convince herself as hard as she was trying to convince me?

"Don't start to judge us just because we're not like you and Edward. Trust me, don't start because if you do, I'll start judging your relationship also."

"What?" I asked.

"Don't ask questions unless you want the answer," Rosalie said.

"Rose," I said, my voice calm. I took her hand. "I'm not judging you."

She pulled her hand away. "Call it what you want, but you're picking apart my relationship like it's in jeopardy. Well, it isn't. So stop!"

"Okay. I'll stop."

Rosalie stared at me for a long time. I glanced at Alice, who was as silent as Rosalie, and looked bewildered by the scene that just took place in front of her. I was just as bewildered.

"Bella," Rosalie said, and when I looked back at her, her eyes had softened, and they were watery. "I'm sorry."

"I'm going to go see my baby, Masen," Alice said. She left, closing the door behind her, and that was when Rosalie allowed herself to break down.

I let her cry on my shoulder, my hand down her hair, until she pulled away and sat on the bed. She shook her head. "You're right. Something's happening with Emmett and me, and I can't figure it our or stop it. It's like…" she wiped under her eyes "...I know I shouldn't say certain things, and I say them anyway."

"Why?"

"I don't know. If I knew, I would stop."

"Emmett thinks it's the distance," I said. "And he's probably right, and when you add the stress of school on top of that, it's understandable."

"You've talked to Emmett, too?" She sniffed.

"A little."

"You've talked to Emmett and Alice, and I'm sure Edward, but not me. Why haven't you talked to me about it?"

That thought hadn't entered my mind. I tried to come up with an answer, but all I could do was stare at her.

"You've been so distant," Rosalie said. "You're here, but it's like you've been as far away as Alice, and she's been across the country."

I tried to remember the last real conversation I'd had with Rosalie that wasn't some sort of joke or play, and I couldn't. It had been a long time. Had I been distant? Had I pushed her away? But she could have talked to me, too.

"Rosalie, if you need or want to talk to me about anything, all you have to do is say so. I'm here for you."

She shook her head. "You have Edward and Masen, and then you got sick. I couldn't add to that with my own problems."

"You know what we need?" I said, sitting beside her. "Girl time. One of these weekends, I'm going to… I'll leave Masen with Edward and I'll come see you at Berkeley. Is that okay?"

"I'd love that." She smiled at me and nodded. "But could you really leave Masen?"

"I think I could do it for one night. I could work up to two maybe." I laughed at how hard it was to merely think about being away from him.

"All right." She nodded. "When you're ready, then do it." She hugged me. "Thank you, Bella. And I'm sorry I snapped at you. You and Edward are perfect. So _fucking_ perfect."

There was something in the tone of her voice during her last sentence. I didn't mention it, and I couldn't be positive, but it sounded very close to… contempt.

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**A/N: **We're nearing the end. I've estimated 5-6 more chapters to go. I don't know if it's me not quite wanting to get to the end, or what. But these last chapters have been harder for me to write. I hope you're still enjoying them.

Review and let me know. (You readers and reviewers work like a muse.) Also, what do you think of Alice's and Jasper's surprise visit? More of them to come next chapter.


	36. Colors

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. **

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 36: Colors

After consciously living in the present on Christmas, I tried it again on New Year's Eve. I attempted to let go of everything that wasn't happening at that very moment. The problem with that is all of your past experiences and future wishes, and all of your anxieties, are part of you--they exist within you in every single moment. For instance, even inside the living room, the window coverings drawn, I couldn't help but remember how beautiful the sky was on clear evenings just before dark, still brightened by the edges of the sun--the color that you could surely touch.

"Edward," I said after taking a sip of my champagne. He was on the chair and I was in his lap, his hand resting on my thigh. Alice, Japser, and Rosalie shared the sofa--Rose's arm linked with Alice's--and Emmett shared the floor with the Christmas tree. Alice and I had put Masen to bed hours ago. "If you could take a piece out of the sky, what color do you think would be left behind? White or black?"

"What?" he asked, moving my hair aside and over my shoulder.

"You didn't hear me?"

"I'm not sure. I think you just asked me what color would be left behind if I took a piece of the sky."

"Right. Come on," I said, my finger tugging on the neckline of his shirt. "Don't think logically for a second. Play with me. What color?"

Rosalie and Alice were laughing, while Emmett was looking on in wait of Edward's answer.

"Okay," he said, leaning forward to put his glass on the table. "First of all, this is why I fucking love you." He kissed my cheek. "If I took a part of the sky, it would obviously be left with the color of fire because there would be no gas molecules or dust particles in that spot to filter the sun."

"No," Emmett said, shaking his head. "It would be black. As if you were seeing the sky from space. And through the hole, the sun would be white, not the color of fire."

"It would still be blue," Jasper said. "It would fill itself in, heal itself immediately. There would be no change in color."

"Jasper wins!" Alice said, standing up. "More champagne?" She began filling everyone's glass, but I covered mine.

"I can't. Still nursing."

I handed Edward his glass, let him take a sip, then placed it back on the table. I liked the look in his eyes the more intoxicated he became, and I played with it.

"I thought your answer was the best," I said, searching his buzzed eyes, wet and intensely green. I tickled the base of his throat with my fingertip.

"You did?" He gave me a crooked smile and his hands squeezed my waist.

"Mm-hmm." I nodded. "It was the most creative."

He eyed my lips as I spoke, and I bit the side of my bottom one. His nose nudged my chin, moved along my jaw and down my neck. My arms tingled with goose bumps.

"What are you doing, Bella?" he whispered against my throat before his lips met my skin. I felt a suck and then his tongue, and then another suck.

I took a deep breath. "You're the one doing something."

"You two never change," Alice said.

"They've been at that all night," Jasper said. "You're just getting the visual now, but I've felt it. About every five minutes, they're two inches away from taking off for their bedroom. I don't know how they're stopping themselves."

I opened my eyes and looked down at Edward. "Really?" I asked him.

He nodded. "All the time. You?"

"Yes."

"No way," Alice said, pulling me off Edward, who wasn't easily letting me go. His arms were still reaching when I was out of his grasp. "No. Way. We came all this way to spend New Year's with you. You're free to do anything you want at 12:01, but until then, you're ours, not his." She pointed at Edward as if he was Bluebeard the Pirate threatening to lock me away forever.

Alice's hair was exactly the same as I'd last seen her. She said she cut pieces of it when it stopped behaving the way she wanted it to. Jasper's hair was a little longer on top, definitely still falling into his face, pointing toward his perpetual smile.

With Alice back on the sofa and I having gravitated back to Edward's lap, Jasper and Alice shared with us some of their experiences at the places they'd worked.

"Look at this," Alice said, showing us her nails. They were shorter than before, but still polished.

"What?" I said. "They look manicured."

"Yeah, but I don't do it for me anymore. Actually, I feel guilty for polishing my nails now, but I do it for the kids. Some of the little girls at different shelters love it." She said they would ask her all about the color names, and request a certain color for her to wear the next day, and even if she had to stay up late and her eyes were closing as she polished she'd still change it for them.

She gave a small, closed-lip smile. A thoughtful smile.

"And she leaves bottles behind every time," Jasper said, a hand on Alice's back. She leaned into him.

"I'm running out," she said.

"Oh!" Rosalie said, getting up and going into Emmett's room. She returned with a handful of polishes, and dropped them clinking together into Alice's lap. "Take them. I don't use them anymore. I don't know why I brought them here at all. I never even packed them up for my dorm."

"Thanks," Alice said.

Emmett expressed his pleasure about having more drawer space until Rosalie pointed out that the polishes were never in a drawer, but that they had been stored in a box under his bed.

"Maybe we can take something else out of a drawer and put in the box now," he said.

"Something of mine, I presume?" Rosalie asked. "I know! I'll box up all my negligees. How about that?" She took a sip of her champagne and Emmett followed.

I leaned against Edward's chest, bracing myself for one of their arguments. Edward must have felt it, too; he rubbed up and down my arm. But the argument never came.

"Do you have a favorite place?" I asked Jasper.

His eyes narrowed. "That's difficult to answer," he said. "Every place we go we're introduced to different problems. Problems you never knew existed, or maybe you thought were fabricated for movies. But they're so real." He let a deep breath out through his nose and shook his head. "Mothers and daughters hiding from abusive or kidnapping fathers, with literally nowhere else to go. No family or friends they can trust, no one. Imagine starting your life out like that as a kid. Not trusting anyone." He took a drink.

"But the thing is, knowing that we've made a difference in the lives of a few people is an unexplainable feeling. No matter how minute and insignificant our efforts might seem, it's still that little bit more than the person had before. That makes it very significant."

"But I have a least favorite place, let me tell you," Alice said, then she made a deep, disgusted sound in her throat. "This one rundown shelter in Louisiana? We spent our time there, not interacting with the people, but scrubbing floors and walls, just to get it up to health code standards. And the worst thing is, who knows if they kept it up once we left? After all that work. And I got sick from it."

"That was the worst," Jasper said. "I've never seen anyone that sick before. She had the flu for a week, in bed, sweating and shivering. She couldn't keep anything down, and the doctor could only suggest rest and plenty of fluids. I had to force her to drink water because she was afraid it would come right up."

Alice shuddered and Jasper put his arm around her. "Don't remind me," she said.

Their story brought to mind Masen's flu battle, something I also didn't want to be reminded of. I noticed the chip bowl needed refilling so I took it to the kitchen. Jasper followed me.

"What'd you run away from?" Jasper asked as I shook chips from the bag into the bowl.

"My own thoughts, as usual," I said.

"How are you, Bella?

I turned to look at him. He was leaning against the opposite counter, his head tilted. "I'm fine, why?"

He smiled. "Just making sure."

I wanted to tell him that I would be even more fine if he and Alice took up residence here, but I couldn't lay a guilt trip on him.

"What?" Jasper asked.

"What?" I picked up the bowl.

"What's that guilty feeling?"

I shook my head. "Jasper, how do you do that? Seriously, I need an explanation."

"Do you want the long version or the short version?"

"The one that will explain it best."

"Go take the chips to the other room and get your coat. I'll tell you outside."

In the living room, I leaned down to kiss Edward. "I'll be right back."

He took my arm. "You're leaving?"

"I'm going to talk to Jasper. I'll only be a few minutes."

He pulled on my arm until I was close enough to kiss again. "Don't be long."

Jasper was already in the courtyard. I sat on the bench, holding my jacket tight around me, and looked up at him--the black sky and the low orange moon behind him. There were sporadic gushes of wind that blew his hair out of his face for him. He didn't have to bother with it.

"Six is the earliest age I remember feeling someone else's emotions," he said. "And it wasn't consistent then. It began with me reading expressions. I've always had this knack for picking up on the slightest muscle movement, a quick blink, a fast clenched fist or jaw, a tightening in the shoulders…"

He told me his mom kept taking him to doctors back then because of his elevated temperature. She was convinced something was really wrong with him, something the doctors were missing. During the third visit to the seventh doctor, sitting in the doctor's office while being examined, Jasper's mom badgered the doctor, asking if he was sure he checked everything, and maybe he should check again. Jasper saw a look come across the doctor's face. He was too young to really understand what a frustrated expression meant. It looked like anger to Jasper, and he projected that feeling onto himself. He felt the doctor's frustration inside and yelled at his mom to stop. There was nothing wrong with him and he wouldn't see anymore doctors. He'd never yelled at his mother before.

That was the first time he remembered it happening. After that, he continued to pick up on expressions he couldn't name, and feel them. It got to the point where he didn't have to think about it anymore. It just automatically happened. He wouldn't have to even be looking at the person anymore to do it. He could catch it out of the corner of his eye.

"Like right now," he said. "I can tell that you're really interested in what I'm saying. You're not faking it. If you were bored, I'd feel it and shut up. But if I turn all the way around-" he turned his back on me "-like this, I have no idea right now what you're feeling anymore, but your original feeling of intrigue is still permeating through me." He faced me again. "So, obviously, growing up, there were feelings I liked and feelings I couldn't stand. I would do my best to make those around me feel good, so I could feel it too. Ultimately, in the beginning, my empathy, my desire to help people, was really out of selfishness. But then my heart started aching for those who suffered, and it became much more." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and brought a foot to the edge of the bench.

"So, what do you think? Crazy?"

"It really is a gift," I said. "And a burden."

"As long as I use it the right way, it's a gift."

"Does anything surprise you?"

"Absolutely. I'm surprised by people's reactions all the time. I just pick up on it sooner and more often than the rest of the world," he said. "Any more questions?"

"One more." I paused and stared at him for a moment, wondering if I should even ask it.

"Go ahead," he said.

"Is it unfair if I ask you how Edward is?"

He brought his foot down and narrowed his eyes at me, reminding me more of a father figure than a friend. "People share the emotions they want to, and keep the other ones in. They do it for a reason, Bella. What would you want me to tell Edward if he asked the same question? Would you want me to tell him that as happy as you are, you're uneasy about your future?"

My heart leapt inside, and then sank. I thought I felt it hit my stomach as though I'd swallowed it. "You can tell that?"

"Sometimes. Not often. But in the kitchen, I felt it. And when you asked me about Edward, I felt it again."

"How do you know it's the future I'm worried about?"

"Because for a split second, you looked up, over my shoulder. If it was the past, I'd assume you'd look down. I'm not always right, though. Was I right?"

"Sometimes," I said.

"I'll tell you this, Bella. Edward is happy with you. He's happy here at Stanford, too."

"But?"

He scoffed and shook his head. "He worries about you."

I looked down and nodded.

"See? Now you're thinking of the past. Listen, Edward isn't the one you should concern yourself with right now anyway. It's Rosalie. Something's up with her, and I'm feeling it focused on you, not Alice or anyone else."

"I knew it," I said. "What did I do to her? I can't think of anything I did."

"I don't know. I can't read minds. I do know this, and I hope I'm not making it a bigger problem by telling you, but I feel it most when you're close to Edward. When you're hugging or kissing him. She can't look at you. Her cheeks tighten and she zones out for a few seconds."

"Why?"

He shook his head.

"I wonder if it's because I live here with Edward and Emmett. Maybe she resents me for it."

"Maybe." He looked up into the wind, his eyes blinking quickly as it blew against his face. I turned and saw the tree he seemed to be looking at, empty of leaves, thin branches like arms raised straight for the stars. I turned back to Jasper, still staring in thought. Was he now thinking of the future? Was he thinking of Rosalie's future, or mine, or his? I could have asked him. I wanted to, but I let him keep his thoughts.

"Thank you, Jasper." I stood up to hug him. "I know this wasn't your idea of celebrating New Year's Eve."

"Are you kidding? I've missed this. No one talks to me the way you do. With the exception of Alice, you're the only person I've ever talked with about my gift in such depth." He stepped back, looked down at me, and squeezed my shoulder. "You and Edward worry about each other too much. You're both fine. Everyone has insecurities. It's normal. Don't drive yourself crazy focusing on them. Just live, Bella. Let it be."

"I'm working on that."

"Come on. Let's go inside and join the party."

There really was more of a party when we re-entered the living room. Rosalie was working with the CD player on the shelf above the television, and Alice kept arguing with her about what music to play.

"You always get like this when you're drinking, don't you?" Rosalie said. "These songs are perfectly fine when you're sober, but after a few drinks, you don't like anything."

"It all sucks," Alice said. "It's the wrong sound for tonight. We need something better."

"There's no 'Artist formerly known as' in this apartment."

"I'm not talking about 'The Artist.' He's strictly for my birthday. Doesn't anyone have an iPod here?!" She turned around. "Oh, hey Bella. You have an iPod, don't you?"

I shook my head.

"I do," Emmett said, and headed for his room.

"There you are," Edward said, wrapping an arm around my waist. He pulled me back to him, and leaned to my ear. "Where were you?" I smelled sweet champagne on his breath.

"I told you." I turned to face him. "I was talking to Jasper. I've missed him."

"I missed you." He kissed me, and it occurred to me that I'd missed him as well. I brought a hand to his face.

"Edward," I said, but he continued to kiss me. "Edward?"

"Bella," he breathed into my mouth. "Is it 12:01 yet? Are we free?" His hands were on my hips, pulling me tight against him.

"Not yet, but Edward, I'm happy, are you?"

His lips had been coming for mine again, but he paused and looked down at me. His fingertips brushed my cheeks. He smiled. "I couldn't be happier. Especially after hearing you say that without being asked." His smile grew.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him close, the side of my head against his beating heart. His arms wrapped around my shoulders and he kissed my head.

"If we sneak away, do you think anyone will notice?" he asked.

"Alice is here; everyone will notice because she'll scream at us."

He sighed and let a hand drift down my hair.

"But we can stay just like this. She can't get mad as long as we're in the same room as everyone else."

Alice still hadn't settled on anything when midnight was upon us. She kept listening to the first five seconds of each song, then with a disgusted grown, she'd change it.

"Forget it," Emmett said, taking his iPod back, and switching on the TV. "We're going to watch the Times Square thing. We've only got five minutes left."

"But they only have kids stuff on there right now. It's crap."

I reluctantly untangled myself from Edward and went to Alice. I squished her cheeks. "Alice, we're together, let's pretend we're still kids and enjoy the cheesy pop music."

"Bella! You're here!" She hugged me tight around the neck.

"No, you're here."

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around. "I need my girl," Jasper said. "Two minutes left."

I nodded and kissed Alice's cheek. "Happy New Year," I whispered.

"Yes it is!" She didn't whisper. "Bella, wait, Bella!" She pulled me back to her and kissed my cheek with wet lips. "I love you."

"I love you, too. But Jasper loves you as well, sweetie, and he wants you now. Look at him. See?"

"Jasper! You're here!" she said and threw her arms around him. She had to jump up to do it, but he caught her, laughing.

Edward was at the coffee table refilling his champagne glass, and Emmett and Rosalie were by the bathroom door kissing already.

"Here," Edward said, handing me a glass. "I think you can have one more drink."

I took the glass and raised it to his, and as the glasses clinked together, something went off in my head. "Oh no!"

"Take a sip, Bella." He pushed the drink to my lips and I sipped for him, then set my glass down, and took his from him, too.

"Edward, how much time do we have?" I reached behind my neck to undo the clasp on my necklace while he checked his watch. My fingers weren't working. I couldn't undo it.

"Fifty seconds, why?"

I turned around and lifted my hair. "Quick, get this off me, hurry! I've been saving something for tonight."

His fingers tickled my neck as he unhooked the clasp. Even drunk, he had it off easier than I could have.

"Here," he said, handing me the necklace.

I let the ring slide off the chain and into my hand, then slipped it onto my finger. I had to push to get it over my knuckle.

"Look," I said, holding my hand up to him. "It fits."

Before I finished speaking, he was kissing the ring and my finger, and then the rest of my fingers, while we heard voices counting down. His lips traveled over my palm and up my arm, kissing me through my shirt until he reached my throat and his lips met flesh. He kissed around my chin and finally to my lips. We kissed through the midnight celebration on TV. We kissed through Alice's screeching and tossing of confetti over our heads.

"You always give the best New Year's kisses," I said.

"You always give the best kisses," he said.

It was 12:03, well past our freedom minute, and we stole to our bedroom. He kissed me, backing me up against the bed, and I fell against it. I laughed.

"Lift your arms," he said.

I raised them, and he slipped my shirt off.

"Here," I said, opening my hand that still held the necklace. "I need this on before I lose it." I stood and turned around so he could replace it around my neck.

When it was secure, his lips met my neck and his hands slid under my arms to cup by breasts. I tilted my head to search his lips.

"Bella," he said before he kissed me.

I faced him again. "Your turn." I tugged at the ends of his shirt.

He shook his head. "Pants off, first." He pulled me out of my jeans.

"Now your turn?"

"Not yet." He reached behind me and unhooked my bra. "We don't need this where we're going."

"Where are we going?" I asked to distract him, so I could get his shirt off.

"My mouth is going right here." He kissed my breast, and the shock of it made me gasp. I let my head fall back.

"Edward, oh my god."

"I know," he said. "This is going to be too fucking fast, but I can't fucking help it."

Our son's voice interrupted us. "Mama-dada mama-dada." I brought a finger to Edward's lips, and Masen repeated our names again.

"Did he wake up to say Happy New Year?" I asked.

"Shh," Edward said, and went to go check on him. He came out from behind the screen empty handed and laughing quietly. He couldn't seem to control it.

"What? What's so funny?"

"He-he's just like you," Edward laughed.

"What?"

"He's sleeping. He talks in his sleep like you."

"No." I covered my eyes and shook my head. "Of all my traits, he has to get that one?"

"I love that trait," Edward said, a finger pulling on my bottom lip. He kissed that lip.

"But I haven't done it in a long time. I can't remember the last time I spoke in my sleep."

He sat on the bed. "Last night," he said, the back of his hand drifting up my arm to my shoulder.

"No."

"Oh yes you did." He touched my nose. "You do it most nights, but I can't always understand you."

"What did I say last night, then?"

"You said bacon."

"Bacon?" I laughed. He did, too.

"Yeah, bacon and then eggs. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think… I think you were dreaming about breakfast."

"Bacon and eggs sound really good right now." I nodded. "I was probably dreaming about eating eggs and bacon at 12:15 on New Year's. My sleeping self is brilliant! Let's make some."

"Later," he said. "Right now--you sound good, right about now."

"Right about now?"

"Right now, this min-second. Five seconds ago."

"Then why aren't you tasting me?"

"Because I'm an idiot." His lips came toward mine. "Shh," he said, as if I'd said anything worth shushing. Maybe he was just warning me in his own buzzed way to keep quiet, so his lips could do what they do.

When he moved them to my throat, I said, "Edward, you know what?"

"What, love?"

I answered him with kisses, held his face and stood up. Then I pulled his pants and boxers off, and let my lips meet his chest. I kissed all over his chest and down his stomach. He sat on the bed and leaned back on his hands, and I continued all the way down, taking him into my mouth. His hands came to my head. For a moment I thought he was going to try to stop me, and there was no way I was going to let him. But his hands just tangled in my hair as he let out moans. Every once in a while I'd feel his fingers against my scalp, and then he'd fist my hair again.

"B-Bella," he said, and it was the last thing he said before I felt him orgasm.

He fell back against the bed with heavy breaths, and I let my cheek rest against his stomach, listening to his insides squirm as his breathing calmed.

"Bella," he said and tugged on my arm. "Bella."

I lifted my head.

"Come here, please." He motioned a lazy hand for me to come toward him.

"Yes, love?"

He smiled, covered his eyes with his arm, and laughed. "You're love," he said. He moved his arm. "Kiss me."

I did. And after a few moments, he flipped me over and kissed me over my body.

"You taste like…"

"Bacon?"

His breath tickled me as he laughed against my stomach. "No, definitely not. You taste like Bella." He continued kissing. "Dessert. So fucking good." He kissed me everywhere, just as I had done for him, until he brought me to my peak. And after, he didn't give me time to catch my breath before he made love to me. He told me he loved me as we made love, and then again just before he fell asleep on top of me. I had to push against his chest to get him to roll over enough so I could breathe. In his sleep he drew me close, and we slept tangled and naked on top of the covers.

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**Thank you for reading. Please review. :)**


	37. Outburst

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**.

Join the_ N__ot Without You_ discussion thread at Twillighted: www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=7726&p=829227#p829227

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Not Without You

Chapter 37: Outburst

"Hospital corners," she said, demonstrating how to properly make the beds. Her long, thin fingers pulled the sheet tightly around the bend of the mattress, then she lifted the corner of the mattress and tucked the extra bit of sheet underneath. Mrs. Pollazzi was strong, but her hands and fingers moved delicately. I'd seen Edward's hands move that way when he unzipped his backpack and pulled books out, or when he lifted my shirt, his fingers trailing over my skin. They were musician hands, or more accurately, pianist hands.

"That piano downstairs," I asked, "is it yours?"

She paused in her bed-making demonstration, still bent over, to look up at me. "Used to be." Her eyes seemed to squint in thought.

I nodded.

Edward had been getting away to play the piano in Caius's building. I went with him when I could, but sometimes he went alone. The last time we all went together--Edward, Masen, and I--was the day Jasper and Alice left.

It had been easier for me to let them go this time. I knew they'd be back in three months, and I knew that there work was making them both happy.

Now, a week after Alice and Jasper took off, I was beginning my first day of training on my new job. As we worked together on the fourth room, Mrs. Pollazzi wasn't even breathing heavy. But Masen was squirming too much in my sling. I tried to shush him, my lips to his head. I didn't want to lose my job on my first day, and Masen's behavior--his ankles kicking against me, his fists demanding in their sign for milk, and his fussing--was starting to embarrass me. He wasn't calming either. Mrs. Pollazzi looked across the bed at me as I dropped my side of the sheet.

"I'm sorry. It's just, I think I have to feed him."

"Do you need to go down to the kitchen, Isabella?"

Apparently, since she'd seen my full name on my tax forms, Mrs. Pollazzi decided that when she wasn't calling me "the little girl." She'd call me by my given name. She'd said there was much more to me than simply Bella, that I was bigger than my nickname. I wasn't sure if I believed her. I thought maybe she just enjoyed being eccentric as well as pronouncing my name in Italian.

"Not yet." I sat in the corner chair with its big flowers and readied myself to nurse Masen. "I'm sorry. I'll only do this on my breaks. I promise." I felt a bit like joining Masen in his cries.

"You never told me you were nursing."

"I only do it a couple of times a day. He doesn't drink that much any more. But I want to do it as long as possible." A part of me hated that I was feeling bad and somewhat justifying or making excuses for nursing. But fear of losing my job was what propelled the words out of me.

The old woman came over and placed a slow hand on my shoulder. "A young girl like you, nursing? " She leaned in closer and near whispered as she pointed a finger at me. "There's a special place in heaven reserved for you. Mark my words."

And then my eyes did water.

"What's the matter, child?"

I felt like I should get up and offer Mrs. Pollazzi the chair. I couldn't do that with Masen nursing, so I shifted uncomfortably, and closed my eyes.

"Someone once called me a sinner. She told me I needed to ask for forgiveness for fornication, or having a child out of wedlock. Yeah, I remember she said 'wedlock'. What you said was just… so nice to hear from someone so wise."

"Oh, I'm not wise. I'm old and I've been around a lot. And just like the young thing that you are, my old irregular heart can still be touched unexpectedly."

She sat on the edge of the partially made bed, her hands in her dress pockets, and silently watched with a pleased smile until I finished nursing. I wanted to ask what she was thinking. Was she reminded of her own daughter? Perhaps a grandchild? But I let her silence fill the room, which was what she seemed to prefer until she spoke again.

"You know what I believe makes a person wise?" she asked, and continued before I could answer. "Observation. Understanding people. What else is more important than understanding our own kind?" She brought her hands out from her pockets and held them up for me to see. She wiggled her fingers. "You observe, don't you?"

"Yes I do. And so do you."

Before I started work on the rooms, early in the morning--in fact, I was waking Masen up by 5:00 AM to get to work on time--I baked the breakfast pastries. While whichever pastry was on the menu for that day heated and rose in the oven, I strapped Masen to me and headed up the stairs to gather the breakfast cards that guests left hanging on doorknobs. Then down I'd go again to fulfill their drink and pastry request. Pots of coffee, freshly squeezed orange juice from the juicer, or simply milk. Carrying each tray and Masen back up the stairs was a much more difficult feat. One wrong move from Masen or me, and a guest's breakfast would be all over the stairs. I watched Masen carefully as I walked with my tray. I whispered to him to keep him still. He was a good boy for me, having been well-fed beforehand and content against my chest.

I rarely interacted with any of the guests, and hardly ever saw them unless we ran into each other coming or going. They usually left on their tours or daily activities while I finished cleaning the kitchen and preparing for the following day. I allowed Masen to wander around the kitchen while I worked and I had his backpack of toys--changed out daily--to keep his interest. I also hummed or sang as I worked, and he'd join sometimes with his coos or his ongoing ma-ma-ma's. He was at an age where he was truly loving his toy piano. If nothing else could distract him, that would do it. Sometimes he would even toddle to the backpack, leaning up against the wall, and struggle to open it just to free the piano himself. He always fussed before the job was complete because even if he'd somehow got the zipper free, he couldn't lift the piano.

"Okay," I'd say, wiping my hands on my apron, and then pulling it out for him. "Here you are."

After the kitchen was finished, it was up the stairs again to clean the occupied rooms. They were easy to keep clean since the work was done daily. Masen liked to help as much as I let him, and sometimes moaned complaints when I held him back from scrubbing the bathtub.

"Mommy has gloves," I'd say, holding up my yellow rubber hands. "Only gloved hands are allowed to touch this."

I knew it was true that without Masen I could have completed my job in less time, but of course, I kept that to myself. The important thing was that I was finishing on time everyday, and I was off by 1:00.

January, much like December, was mostly filled with very cold but sunny days, the early morning fog lifting usually before noon. There were only a few gray days here and there, and even less were rainy. After work, I'd begun collecting some of the leftover pastries and fruit, and would walk Masen the two blocks from the bed and breakfast to the park.

There was a home for sale a few houses over--lookers would drive up, traipsing in and out of the small one-storey, to view what may or may not become their next home. I watched a couple, older than me, carrying a baby younger than Masen as they followed their realtor up the path.

I wondered over my life, thinking about how, for as many times as I'd moved, I'd never experienced the house-hunt. I'd been too young to remember it when my mom had whisked me off to Phoenix. Then it was back at my dad's eight years later. From there to the Cullens', and then Stanford, where once again I'd had no input on where I lived. Choosing a first real home was something I looked forward to experiencing with Edward. I walked, as if entranced, up the path after the strangers, Masen close to my chest. I thought I'd just peek in, see if I could imagine a life with my family there. But when I got to the door, I turned around. It wasn't possible yet. It would just be another alternate reality, and I was fine with my reality, I reminded myself.

I continued on to the park. It was a relief to be there, off campus, with its sand-filled playground, plastic slides, and rubber swings. The playground was out-skirted by a huge manicured lawn, tall natural redwoods, and smaller planted, bare trees, their branches moving stiffly in the wind. There, I met other mothers, none of whom asked me if I attended Stanford. In fact, the subject of college never came up. And even if I was the youngest around, for once I finally fit in.

Edward had started classes again, and was able to cut back his work hours. He now worked three days a week instead of five, and since I got home just as he finished school, we were able to spend most afternoons and evenings together. He didn't have to stay up all hours studying anymore either, which settled my own anxiety perhaps more than his. Every other Saturday, on Edward's day off from the clinic, he'd join Masen and me for lunch at the park.

Caius, I was seeing less of. He was also in school while I worked, and I was off when he started at the bed and breakfast. We only shared work hours on the weekends.

I'd noticed along the left wall a set of double doors that, when I tried to open them, were locked. One Saturday, my curiosity compelled me to ask Caius about what was behind the doors.

"Ah, what's behind door number one? A wall," he said.

"Fake doors?"

He laughed. "Yeah, the wall was sealed in to create a separate apartment. It's fully functional with its own kitchen and bath. It even has a private back patio."

"Does Mrs. Pollazzi live there?"

"No, she doesn't live here. It just seems that way because she's here so much. The apartment was created for the groundskeeper, oh about fifteen, twenty years ago, and since then it's been rented to the odd employee who needs it, usually a student. The girl whose position you took over used to occupy it. Come on. I'll show you. You should probably go in and clean it up once in a while, anyway; just keep it dust free and livable. You know?"

He opened the antique desk that stood against the wall under the stairs, and took out a key. I held Masen's hand and allowed him to walk as we followed Caius out the front door. To the left of the bed and breakfast, he pulled a string, releasing the gate. The entrance to the apartment was around the side of the house.

The apartment was small. Everything went straight back except for the one bedroom off to the left side.

The living room carpet was the same blue as the living room in the bed and breakfast, and the few furnishings were covered by sheets. There was a half-wall defining the dining area from the living room. A sheet-covered dining table was centered in that area, and another wall at the back housed long shelves on the upper half and just as long drawers on the bottom half, all a creamy off-white color. The color of a peeled banana.

Across from that half-wall, right there between the dining room and living room, was a nook that lead to the bedroom. I recognized the nook, with its slanted ceiling, as the spot beneath the stairs of the bed and breakfast. On the other side of that wall would be the desk that stored the key to this apartment. I wondered if footsteps moving up and down the stairs could be heard from here. The bedroom was large and empty, with wood floors, and all the way across the room was the apartment's only bathroom.

The kitchen was mostly blue; tile the color of cobalt ran across the wall between the sink and stove, and the robin's-egg colored cabinets. Out the kitchen door, a gray stone wall separated this square yard from the larger garden of the bed and breakfast.

I could imagine living here with Masen and Edward, and I let myself explore my thoughts this time. As small as the apartment was, it was still larger than the shack Edward and I had dreamed up. And out back, there was enough room for a tomato garden and the grape vine Edward had given me for Christmas. I already knew where I'd put it. Right in the circular, bricked center, surrounded by grass.

"There used to be a small gazebo there," Caius said, as if knowing exactly what I was looking at. "The wood got old and rotted, so it had to be removed."

I hadn't said anything to Caius since we'd entered the apartment. He'd done all the talking and I sometimes listened. Most of the time I was musing over how to make this my family's place. The nook between the living room and the bedroom, for instance, could easily be turned into a small room for Masen with the use of the screen we already had. It would give him more space than he had now, sharing our room at Stanford. This apartment could be our first place, away from Emmett, away from our parents. We could sit together and enjoy the garden that I'd grow and teach Masen how to attend to.

As I carried Masen out front, Caius closed the door to the apartment that I somehow knew would be my next home. I felt that possibility like I felt the late morning wind on my face. I could make it happen. Then, free of financial help, on our own, Edward and I could get married, and it wouldn't be a joke to anyone. Not even my mother or Phil could say we weren't supporting ourselves.

For the rest of that Saturday I was in a cloud, a daydream that I couldn't wait for Edward to join. At home, after putting Masen down for the night, I went to the living room where Edward was studying. I finally had a moment to talk to him about the apartment.

Rosalie and Emmett were arguing again. I heard them faintly through the wall as I made my way to Edward. Their voices grew louder just before it went quiet and Rosalie charged out. Emmett took her arm.

"Wait, Rose." Emmett turned her around by her shoulders--spun her as easily as if she were a top.

She glared at him, arms folded, head tilted, mouth pursed in wait of whatever it was he'd asked her to wait for. He stared down at her without releasing his thoughts.

I continued on toward Edward as he sat with a book, so peaceful in his reading, completely ignoring the scene around him.

"He's finally asleep," I whispered into his ear and straddled Edward's lap, kissing his cheek and then his lips. His book fell to the sofa and he held my hips, pulling me close against him.

"Bella, what are you doing?" Rosalie asked.

I turned. "Kissing Edward. What are you doing?" I didn't realize my smile was still present, until I saw the look on her face. I was still floating somewhere distant in my imagination.

"Vomiting in my mouth. Why do you pull shit like that whenever Emmett and I are fighting? I swear, you're doing it on purpose."

My smile disappeared. It was gone without a trace, as if it were never there in the first place. I stood up and Edward's hands fell to the side of my knees.

"You don't have to watch," I said.

"You're right in front of me, and you do it every time we're fighting."

"When aren't you fighting? It makes me tense when you're arguing, and Edward calms me." I barely felt him take my fingers, my own body contradicting my words as I felt my temper working its way up and out of my mouth, regardless of Edward's touch.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. You point out that we're always fighting and subtly add how perfect you and Edward are. It's sickening and cruel."

"Rosalie," Edward said, "she--"

"Stop, Edward," I said. "I can defend myself." I turned back to Rosalie, who was shaking her head at me, her eyes narrow. "What is your problem? I can't kiss Edward without you making it about you? So, I love him. This is our time together when Masen is sleeping. Should I start a fight with him just to please you?"

"Bella, just stop it. Look at how you treat him and he lets you get away with it. And I see how you're starting in on Emmett, too. You may be manipulating them, but you're not fooling me. Edward, your love for her is so blinding, you can't see what she's doing to you, can you? You're going to regret that, Edward."

"What are you talking about? How do I treat him? And what am I doing to Emmett?"

Edward was standing next to me now, his hand on my lower back.

"You're playing Emmett just like you do Edward. Getting him to trip all over himself, just to make you happy. Do you know that I can't even go to the store with Emmett without him asking me if I think there's anything you need?" She stopped to scoff and roll her eyes. "You live here, sure, but why should taking care of you be my boyfriend's job?"

My eyes darted between Rosalie and Emmett. "I don't ask him to-"

"And Edward didn't even get to see his family at Christmas because _you_ didn't want to go."

"We decided together…" _Didn't we?_ I thought about it. Had that been my decision? I'd suggested it, but he… I looked at Edward… he had agreed with me. He'd said it was a brilliant idea.

"My family spent Christmas Eve with the Cullens, and Esme was sad, Bella. You know how she is, and she didn't even _try_ to hide her disappointment."

I looked down and started to bring a hand to my head, but Edward caught it and linked our fingers. I felt his thumb caress the back of my hand.

"Fuck, Rose," Edward said. "I've been trying to get Bella to stop thinking so much about other people."

"Who does she think about?" Rosalie asked. "When Masen was sick and she had to take him to the hospital, she thought it was more important to call Emmett than you, Edward."

"What?" I said looking up again. "What are you…" I turned to Edward. He shook his head. Had he been talking to her? Was that how he saw that day? "You-you had your exam. I called Emmett to ask him what I should do."

"Bella," Edward said, "I didn't-"

"Wait. You talk to Rosalie? What else does she know?"

"It's not like that. Not at all."

"What difference does it make if he talks to me, Bella? You talk to Emmett, don't you?" Rosalie said, Emmett standing just behind her, his eyes on the floor. "And Caius."

"Rosalie," Edward said. "That's enough."

"Edward, stop it! I'll tell her when it's enough." I faced Rosalie. "Is this-don't tell me this is like before? After all this time? Rose, you still don't think I'm good enough for Edward."

"Bella, of course she doesn't think that." Edward brought my hand to his lips, but I didn't acknowledge him. My temper was lit like a match, only this match couldn't simply be blown out.

"Edward and I have been together for two years now. We have Masen. You and I are friends. How am I not good enough?"

"I never said you weren't good enough, Bella. Don't put words in my mouth and turn this around. Don't play the victim."

"I'm playing victim now? Rosalie, if it's not that I'm not good enough for him, then what is it?"

"You don't treat him right. Like a minute ago. You snapped at Edward, shutting him up, assuming he was going to defend you--you wouldn't even let him finish his sentence. And he doesn't say anything--let's you do it and follows your orders like you _own_ him. You better know how goddamn lucky you are to have someone like him."

"What does that mean?" Emmett asked, speaking up for the first time.

"I know I'm lucky," I said.

"You better," she said, "because someday he might open his eyes."

"Rosalie, why are you being such a bitch right now?" I said.

"What did you say?"

"I said… I miss Alice! Come on, Edward." I pulled on his hand and started leading him to our room. "Let's go somewhere where it's legal for me to kiss you."

"Yeah, go ahead, follow her, Edward. Weren't you just studying? Does she even care? Don't think for yourself. Don't put your foot down or anything. She might stomp on it. She's the only person you have ever let drag you around like you're on a leash. You're not who you used to be. You… you're not Edward. You're Bella's boyfriend." I felt the tug on my arm as he froze in his spot.

"Rosalie--" he started, but I cut him off, even if it would only add fuel to Rosalie's anger.

"Just let it go. You are so far off. He's not on a leash. Why don't you ask him if he would rather be out here listening to this or in our bedroom making out with me?! It's a pretty fucking easy question to answer. Anyway, how can you talk to him that way after complaining about how awful I supposedly treat him? And after everything, _everything_ he's done for you. He was at your beck-and-call. He put his life on hold for you when-"

I stopped, and stepped back as if I could step away from my own words. The silence that followed my outburst rang through me like a church bell. It hurt my ears.

"Bella," Edward said, and I looked at him. His hands were off me completely. Not at my waist, my hips, my fingers. I had taken it too far. I knew that as soon as I caught myself saying it. But Edward should have known I didn't mean it.

"Bella, just calm down," Emmett said.

I looked at Rosalie, but she wasn't looking at me. She was nodding with tears in her eyes, looking at Edward, who was looking back at her. She bit her lip, her chin trembling, then turned around and left the room. Emmett followed her around the corner into the kitchen.

"Bella? How could you say that? She was being unreasonable but she didn't fucking deserve that!"

"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. It just came out. I couldn't control it."

"It's your mind and your mouth, Bella. Control it!" He left me there and went after Rosalie.

I returned to the sofa and sat down, waiting for one of them or all of them to return. They were all gone for a long time. After maybe an hour, I started to get up to join them in the kitchen, no matter how much my presence was unwanted, but Edward returned alone and I sat back again. He didn't look any happier with me. In fact, he looked angrier. He sat down in the chair next to the sofa and leaned forward, looking me in the eyes.

"Don't ever bring my helping Rosalie into one of your fights again."

"I didn't mean to."

"Well, you did it. The damage is done."

"What damage?"

"She thinks that I complained to you when I was helping her through the loss of her sister, the time when she thought she was at fault for her sister's death. She thinks she was a burden on me and that I complained to you about it. I worried about you back then, but did I ever complain about helping her?"

I shook my head. "Not once. You did so much for her that I couldn't believe you weren't complaining."

"She doesn't believe that. And you need to know right now that if I had to do it all over again, I would do it exactly the same way."

"I know that. Edward, I didn't mean it. I was angry. I was lashing out, and maybe it did bother me a little when you were taking care of her, and that's selfish, but I should never have brought it up."

"No. You shouldn't have. Not to Rosalie."

"So, we agree. Are you done chastising me?"

"Bella! This isn't about chastising you! It's about making things right with Rosalie! Cleaning up a huge mess that you made with one incomplete sentence."

I couldn't look at him looking at me like that anymore. I started for our room.

"Bella, maybe Rosalie was pushing your buttons and saying things she had no business saying, but you--"

I spun around. "Yeah, I know. I'm the bitch! I'm the one who so obviously treats you like crap… I mean it's _so_ obvious, you're miserable all the time, aren't you? You never smile. You never laugh. You never get to have sex whenever the hell you want it! I'm such a bitchy girlfriend, why would you even want to be with me?! And then I force you to kiss me and pretend to be happy just to make other people feel bad about their own problems. You should know how late I stay up scheming about who I can hurt next. It all makes perfect sense, doesn't it? You know me better, Edward. You _know_ me. I didn't mean what I said to Rosalie, and I'll apologize to her and I'll make it right, but stop yelling at me about it, right now. I feel bad enough already."

He sat back down and put his face in his hands. "Fuck. I know you didn't mean it, Bella. I do know that. But I don't know how you could have said it."

"I don't know, either, but I did say it. And now we have to deal with it. I know how connected you are to Rosalie, and I've never tried to come between you, and I'm not asking you to take sides now. I messed up and I want to make it right, but you telling me what an awful person I am for being capable of being so hurtful… maybe I look like I'm playing the victim, but it hurts, too. It hurts me, too, Edward."

"It hurts you, Bella?" He looked up at me again. "You're the one who said it and it hurts you? There are consequences to your actions and they're nobody else's fault."

I stared at him. I wanted to disappear to our room, but would I be playing a victim again? Should I just continue to let him yell at me until he felt I'd been punished enough? I went back to the sofa and sat down. He hadn't looked away from me. I needed him to forgive me, though, because I couldn't take the way he was looking at me and talking to me. I knelt down in front of him, took his hand, and when he didn't pull away from me, I thought perhaps he was beginning to forgive me. But then he did pull his hand from mine.

"You remember that day at the hospital when Rosalie told me what her father had said to her?"

I nodded.

"You asked me how he could have said something like that to her?"

"Yeah."

"I felt very similar to that when you said what you said to her tonight. That's how I felt. That's me being honest. I know you're sorry. But it doesn't mean I understand how you could have said it."

I sat back on the floor. When he spoke again his voice was softer, calm, sad.

"You know what she was like after the accident. You know what was in her mind. She fucking contemplated suicide, Bella. You know that she believed the wrong sister died. She needed me."

My hand flew to my mouth. Edward started shaking his head. "No. Bella. Wait." He took my wrist, pulling my hand from my mouth. "Wait."

"I'm- I'm sorry, Edward." I was trying hard not to cry. I didn't want him to think that I was crying for sympathy. I squeezed my eyes. I blinked away tears. "Do you… do you think that I… what I said… Did it bring those feelings back?" What if those thoughts had never really left her? What if they'd remained inside her, dormant? What if she had just buried them like they did her sister? I was unaware I'd been scooting away from Edward until my back was against the corner of the sofa. My actions were not my own. I hugged my legs to my chest.

"No. No, no. Come back here." He leaned forward, took my arms, and pulled me until I was in front of him again. He held my face, keeping my eyes on his. "Bella, don't think about that. That's not what's going on."

"I wish I could take it back. I'm so sorry for throwing Irina's death in her face out of anger. Oh God, all the feelings it must have brought up in her. I was awful to her and, indirectly, to you. Neither one of you deserved it, and I'm so sorry."

"Bella. I know you're sorry. I took it too far."

His eyes hadn't left mine. I brought a hand to his cheek. "I'm not horrible, Edward. It was a mistake. I spoke without thinking. I stopped myself as fast as I could, but it was too late."

He took my hand, the one that was cupping his face, and he brought it to his lips and he kissed my palm. That gesture told me that he could forgive me. Eventually, he would, and more tears puddled in my eyes and my nose burned with my effort to keep them at bay.

"I'm sorry," I said, wrapping my arms around his neck, and his arms came around me and pulled me onto his lap, and he held me as tight as I held him. "I'm sorry."

"I know, Bella. I know you are. So am I."

"I love you, Edward. And I love Rosalie."

"We love you, too. I love you."

I buried my face into his neck and kissed it. Over and over again, I kissed up and down his neck. "I'm sorry. Can you forgive me? Will she?"

He didn't answer so I pulled back, but he held my face and brought my lips to his. I took them eagerly, savoring the taste of his mouth. Even if he couldn't forgive me yet, he was giving me this.

"I love you, Bella. That doesn't change. Don't think that changes. I love you."

"I wish none of this happened." I kissed him deeper.

"Me too." He kissed me back just as deeply, and our breathing and need for each other was building with each kiss. I brought my hand under his shirt and felt his stomach. His skin was perfect under my fingers, and they drifted around his back.

"I want to feel you," I said.

"Hmmm." He kissed down my throat to my collarbone. "Come on, come on, come on, let's go to our room." We kissed our way to our room, and on to the bed. Edward wason top of me, removing my clothes, and then he stopped. His shirt was off, but his jeans were still on, and he was slightly panting and looking down at me, at my face. "Before we do this, I need to tell you something."

I sat up. "What?"

"You're right. I do know you, and I know your heart. There's nothing to forgive. It was just a mistake, Bella, and it could have happened to anyone. God knows I've made mistakes in this relationship, and I'll do it again. I did tonight." He brought a hand to my chest. "Your heart is beautiful, Bella, and I'm sorry I lost it on you. I know how bad you must have felt."

"Thank you." I grabbed his lips with mine and brought my hands around his neck, and pulled until he was on top of me again. "This is us, Edward," I said, and I hadn't even know I'd been crying until I heard the shaking in my own voice, and felt his hands roughly pushing the tears off my face. But I didn't need or want him to do that. I wanted his lips on mine. "This is why we're here." I reached for his face and pulled him tight against my lips.

He practically ripped my panties off me--if they were torn, I wouldn't have been surprised--and his own pants were gone and his skin was against mine, and it was all that I thought I needed until he gave me more. He gave it to me in kisses all over my body, while my tears continued to spill. Our kisses and touches grew hard and rough against each other, and our need for each other was almost a panic. I couldn't get enough of his taste. I wrapped my legs around him and pushed on his back until he knew what I was demanding, and he handed it to me. Everything my body asked for, he delivered. We were not soft; we were not gentle; we were not slow. It was not romance. It was living. Living for each other, and we were showing life with everything we had that one was here just for the other, and nothing else. And when we finished, we still hadn't had enough of each other, and took selfish kisses again and again.

"This is why we're here." He repeated what I'd said in a voice that was barely there; it was all heaving breaths, and he continued to speak through kisses. Kisses over my still-wet eyelids, my leftover tears. Kisses on my neck, my cheek, my temple, my chest, and in no pattern at all. "I'm here for you, Bella. I love you. Every bit of you. Every mistake you've ever made, I love you for it. And every generous gift you've ever given, I love you for that, too. It's not going to stop, Bella." And still, his words were breaths. And his kisses were on my stomach now.

"I love you the same," I answered back. "No matter how angry you are with me or what you say to me. I don't just love a part of you, I love the whole you."

"No," he said, and his lips were back on mine again. "Not no matter how angry I get. You don't deserve my temper. Not you." His lips were on my cheek and moving toward my ear.

"Your temper is a part of you, Edward."

His kisses stopped and his face was in line with mine, his eyes damp and glistening. "Bella, did I hurt you? Did I make you feel like a bad person?"

"I already felt that way before you said anything to me."

"But I made it worse."

"You were angry."

"You told me you're not horrible. I know that, baby." His fingers caressed my face from my hairline to my chin. "I know you're not horrible. You never could be. Did I make you feel horrible?"

"I was afraid you thought that. When you compared me to Rosalie's father."

"Oh fuck, Bella. You're nothing like her father. I'm sorry. Everything came out wrong. I only meant to say that's how I felt--that I couldn't understand where those words came from because it seemed so unlike you. But what you said, it didn't even come close to what her father said. It isn't even on the same planet."

"Thank you."

He gave a laugh. "Don't thank me. It's a fact." He wrapped me in his arms and rolled over so that I was lying on top of him. "Bella. Isabella Swan. You are the best person that I have ever known. I need you to understand and believe that."

"But I was hurtful to you and Rosalie."

"So what? You're allowed to make mistakes without being reprimanded by the person who loves you more than his own life. And I do love you more than my life." He kissed me. "You were crying while we were making love. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay." I nodded. "It was relief and love… and regret. I still feel terrible for what I said to her."

"I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I was angry and worried about Rose, but I handled it all wrong. I wasn't thinking clearly."

I sat up and started moving off the bed. "I have to go talk to her."

He caught my arm and pulled me on top of him again. "No. Not right now. Wait until morning. Let her cool down. She's with Emmett now; that's what she needs. We'll make it right together, love."

I let him guide my head to his chest. "Okay."

"I know you understand that Rosalie and I are close. She is and always has been an important part of my life. I'll help her when she needs me, but no matter what--in every day, in every single moment--I choose you. I'm on your side. You don't have to ask me to choose, but I choose you anyway. In every circumstance, it's always you. She may be a part of my life, but you _are _my life."

I hugged him and held on tight. "Edward, I hate when we fight. It scares me."

"Me too."

"I don't know what I would do without you."

"You'll never have to find out, Bella."

* * *

Review Please :)

Edward and Bella obviously have some more talking to do, as do Rosalie and Bella. More to come.


	38. Serenity

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

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www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=7726&p=829227#p829227

**A/N**: I know I didn't get back to all reviewers yet. There were a lot of emotions in the reviews for last chapter and I wanted to get this chapter to you as quickly as possible. I did read every review, and I will try to respond to all. There were a couple of anonymous reviewers with questions, but I have no way of getting back to you. If you would like your questions answered, you may private message me or leave a signed review. :)

Thank you for reading!

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 38: Serenity

"Shh, Bella, shh."

I felt a hand pushing my hair back, and opened my eyes. In the early morning darkness, hours before the sun would take its first peek over our side of the earth, and before there'd been a wakeful moment to process or reflect on the storm that had taken place inside our living room the evening before, Edward was over me, not a hint of a smile on his lips or in his eyes.

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I frowned. "Yeah, why?"

He didn't answer; he just hugged me.

"Did I say something?"

"Yes," he said, his voice muffled by my hair.

"It wasn't funny this time?"

I felt him shake his head against me, his face buried in my shoulder. I pet his hair.

"Was it bad?"

He nodded.

"I can't remember my dream. Tell me what I said."

He pulled back and gazed down at me again, then kissed my face. "You're not alone, Bella. You have me; you have all of us."

"I said I was alone?"

"And that you don't have anyone."

"Oh." I turned away from him, my cheek against my pillow. He pulled me close and kissed the back of my neck through my hair.

"Talk to me, Bella. Do you feel alone?"

"Last night, you left me there. Everyone left me there. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to call Alice. She's the only one who…"

He turned me to face him. "The only one who what?"

"I can tell her anything. She'd never get mad at me."

He lay back, resting an arm over his forehead, looking up at the black ceiling.

It was my turn to lean over him. He was looking at me now. "Why did Rosalie say all that to me? Do you think I control you? And Emmett, too? Do you feel like you're on a leash?"

"Not at all, Bella. You don't control me. You give me everything. And it's not a leash. It's more like a magnet. I want to be wherever you are."

I put my head on his bare chest, his heart beating against my cheek. His arms encircled me. "Don't feel alone. That's the last thing I want you to feel. I'm sorry I left you in the living room. I shouldn't have done that. And last night, things were said that should never have been said."

"I know."

His fingers played with the ends of my hair, relaxing me, but still, I didn't feel sleep anywhere near me. Sleep was gone. I glanced over at the clock on Edward's bedside table. It was just after 4:00.

"I'm getting a drink. Do you want anything?"

He took my hand and kissed it. "Just you," he said. "Hurry back."

I pulled on his T-shirt and my panties and headed for the kitchen. But I never made it there. Out in the living room, on the big chair, Rosalie was sleeping. I touched her shoulder and she opened her eyes.

"Oh." She looked around. "I couldn't sleep."

"You _were_ sleeping. Do you want to go to bed?"

"No." She cleared her throat and sat up.

I sat on the sofa and tried to think of the right words to say, but nothing momentous came to mind. "Why did you have trouble sleeping?" was as good as it got just then.

"Because of you."

"Rosalie... I have to apologize for what I said last night. It was possibly the worst thing I could have brought up."

"Forget about it, Bella. That's not why I couldn't sleep. I was up thinking about what _I_ said to _you_. Besides, you did a lot for me back then. I would have been mad too, if Emmett started spending so much time with you."

"I was never mad about it. My concern for you trumped all other feelings. And Edward wanted to be there for you. He was so worried about you that he even ignored Emmett's requests for help just so he wouldn't upset you."

"What do you mean?"

"Emmett kept wanting Edward to talk to you for him, but when Edward saw how it affected you, he stopped."

"I'm such a screwed up person, aren't I?" She fingered the ends of her shirt and looked down at it as if examining the threads. I wondered if she even saw them, though.

"No, you're not. Don't say that."

"Well, I'm not the person I should be, anyway. I'm nowhere near the person Irina would be."

"You don't have to be like Irina."

"Obviously I can't be, even if I try. You can, though. You're just like her."

"That wasn't what you were saying last night."

She brought her bare feet up on the chair and wrapped her arms around her legs, still in jeans. "I don't know what I said last night. I was so mad before I even saw you and Edward…" she paused and shook her head, her eyes tearing. "And Emmett. He keeps talking about you when we argue. Last night he said that I always blow things out of proportion, and that if it were you and Edward, that you would understand. And that got me thinking, how can someone be that understanding _all_ the time? Edward calls you perfect, and now Emmett was essentially saying he wanted me to be more like you. I just started looking for your faults. And whether they were true or not, I found them. Then there you were, kissing Edward, being the girlfriend Emmett wished I was. So perfect." She shook her head, her tears spilled. She wiped them quickly. "Sorry."

"I'm not perfect, Rosalie. The reason I'm understanding is because I hate fighting with anyone. I think _a lot_. I'm in my own head all the time, and I over-analyze myself. Believe me, I'm aware of my faults. So when people say things to me like you did last night--some of the things I already think about myself--it just solidifies what I already see as my insufficiencies. But everybody falls short, and you know I'm not perfect. You told me so last night. You think I manipulate Edward."

"I don't think that. Last night, I saw the plausibility of it. He does everything you want. He lets you steer your relationship. If you turn right, he follows, and if you make a hard left, he turns, too. He's not even in the passenger seat; he's in the backseat. The only reason he's here is because of you. He was never like that before you. He made his own decisions."

"And the only reason I'm here is because of him; doesn't that count for anything?"

"Yes, it does. Nothing I said last night was fair to you."

"The way I said that Edward put his life on hold for you wasn't fair either. And it isn't exactly true. He went to you when you needed him, but he included me, too. He spent an awful lot of time and energy making sure that I was okay with everything. He didn't forget me in helping you. And he wanted to help you, Rosalie. He was so worried about you that he wouldn't have been able to stop himself. Do you believe that?"

"Yeah, I do. Knowing Edward, I do."

We sat in silence for a bit. Edward must have been wondering what was taking me so long. I leaned back against the sofa.

"Bella, can I tell you something? I mean, without you feeling pity for me?"

"Go ahead."

"Irina never leaves my mind." She whispered it as if they were words that should never be spoken. "She's always there somewhere. When I'm eating, sleeping. When I wake up or I'm acting like the bitch she would despise. She haunts me. And I don't mean like a ghost, but the memory of her. And I see her, right before… She was smiling at me, Bella. She was happy to hand me my big old huge fucking bag. Don't-Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Your eyes. I asked you not to feel sorry for me."

"Rosalie." I tried to stop, but how could I not feel sorry for someone who'd been through what she'd been through, and was apparently still facing it every day? "I don't have a sibling, but if I'd lost any family member the way you lost Irina, that person would always be on my mind."

Edward emerged from the bedroom then. He was wearing sweats, but no shirt, and holding Masen. "There you are," he said. He walked toward us. Rosalie held her arms out for Masen, and when Masen saw her he reached for her, too. Edward delivered our son to Rosalie. She kissed his cheek and hugged him.

I wanted Masen, but I let Rosalie hold him. The little guy had no idea what he provided for all of us just by existing.

"You look better," Edward said to Rosalie.

She nodded. "Bella and I talked." She shifted Masen so he was sitting on her lap with his back to her. "I owe you an apology, too. What I said about Bella was wrong."

"Yeah," he said, taking a seat by me. "Very wrong. We both were. She didn't deserve that from either of us." He brought a hand to my head and brushed down my hair. "Are you aware of all she's done for me?" he asked Rosalie, but he was looking at me. "She even found me a piano." He smiled at me. "And I have nothing to give her." He kissed my forehead and let his lips linger.

"You give her yourself, Edward. So, you had a fight last night. That's not the end. People fight."

Edward still hadn't looked away from me. "That doesn't make anything that happened last night right," he said and kissed my hand, before finally turning to face Rosalie, who'd been talking to the back of his head. "You can't talk to Bella the way you did. Some of the things you said, about Christmas and when Masen was sick, those are non-issues for us and they're really none of your business. You have no right to spin what I say and use it against Bella. You knew what you were saying was an exaggeration if not a fabrication."

"I know."

"You were volatile last night, Rose, even before Bella said what she said. And after what she said, what it did to you." He leaned forward . "You know, you stopped your therapy after you left Forks, but maybe that was premature. I think you should find someone here."

"Emmett suggested that, too. I don't know exactly what I need, but I need something." Masen reached up to touch Rosalie's chin. She took his fingers and kissed them. "In the kitchen, after I broke down, I said that you were only there for me out of obligation, but I know that isn't true. I took so much from you back then. Both of you. I took whatever you'd give me, and I don't even think I ever thanked either one of you for that."

"You did," Edward said, and I nodded in agreement. She'd thanked me the day she finally cried and allowed Emmett back into her life.

"It isn't enough, though. I couldn't have gotten through that period without you, Edward. I'm alive because of you. You saved my life and in turn I cause problems in your relationship. I'm not going to do that anymore."

"No, you're not," Edward said. "How long have we known each other, Rose?"

She looked up at the ceiling. "Eleven years, almost twelve."

"More than half our lives," he said. "And in that time, have I ever hurt you or let you down?"

"You wouldn't do that."

"I've done it," he said. "To Bella. The only woman I've ever loved. You have no idea how it feels to know that she can never say what you just said. Whether or not she'll admit it, I know I let her down when I helped you through your grief. She was amazing the entire time, wasn't she?"

Rosalie looked at me and nodded, and I wondered if she really needed to hear again how amazing I was.

"And last night, Rose, I hurt her. Hopefully she can forgive me for the way I acted." I saw tears in his eyes, and Rosalie noticed them, too. Her eyes softened. "But it stops now. I know that you're in pain and I know that a part of that pain will never go away, but I'm going to have to let you down. I can't risk hurting Bella over anyone, including you."

"Okay," Rosalie said, but she wasn't looking at him. She was looking past him, and then down at Masen.

"And if you have a problem with the Edward I am now, all I can say is you're going to have to get used to it. I'm Bella's Edward, and that's my decision. No leash; no force."

"I get it, Edward. You don't have to continue."

He continued anyway. "I don't want you to pick a fight with Bella ever again just because your life isn't going the way you want it to."

"I already said I wouldn't do that. Are you done?"

"I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, Rose. And I'm not going to abandon you, but Bella's feelings have to come first for me. I'm sorry, but they just do. Just like Emmett should come first for you, you know? I want you to be happy, but for that to happen, you need to feel like you deserve it and then let it happen. You're fighting it still."

She adjusted Masen, who was squirming on her lap, fussing and signing for food. She wiped a fallen tear from her cheek. "Can I feed him breakfast?"

"Sure," I said, going over to kiss him and say good morning. "Auntie Rose is going to feed you, baby. Just the rice cereal and fruit is fine," I told her.

She took Masen to the kitchen, holding him close, his head against her shoulder, his blond hair blending with hers.

"Is she going to be okay?" I asked Edward.

"I hope so. But she had to hear that, even if it hurt. She needs to know for sure where I stand with you. Bella," he said, turning my shoulders toward him. I could tell by the look on his face that he was going to apologize again.

"Let's just forget about it. There's something else I want to talk about."

"Anything."

I told him about my talk with Rosalie and how Emmett would bring me up in their fights.

"Of course he wants Rosalie to be like you. Why wouldn't he?" He reached for my hand and I gave it to him.

"But that's a big problem. I think us being here causes more arguments between them."

"What are we supposed to do about that, love?"

"We're supposed to move out."

His eyes narrowed and a disbelieving smirk came to his lips. "Move out?"

"Think about what happened last night. Emmett and Rosalie were fighting but we weren't. We were happy. But then Rosalie started in on me, and then you and me…"

"You and me." He wrapped an arm around me. "You and me. It was bad."

I nodded. "I can only think of one fight worse than that."

"Kate."

I didn't have to nod or answer that time. "And if we stay, there's the potential that it could get worse between Emmett and Rosalie, or us. I don't want that."

"But I can't move. I have to live on campus for the entire first year in order to remain a student."

"We can wait until summer."

"We'll never find a place this affordable."

I shrugged and finally shared my thoughts about the apartment at the bed and breakfast. The conversation that had been waiting hours to be had. The conversation that would have been had if Rosalie hadn't seen me kissing Edward at the height of her argument with Emmett.

"You've thought about this."

"Yeah."

"You really want this?"

"Only if you want it too, because Rosalie thinks I lead you around too much."

"Bella, don't listen to what Rosalie said. Even she knows she was wrong. I do what I want to do. It's just a coincidence that we both want the same things. She needs to understand that. So answer me. Is this what you want?"

"Yes, it is."

"Okay. We'll look into it. Can I check out the apartment?"

"You'll love it." I smiled and described it to him. I may have made it sound like a palace, but the way I saw it, a place of our own, it may as well have been a palace.

"Bella," he took my face in both of his hands. "I know you want me to drop this, but I can't yet. Something's been heavy in my head and I have to say it."

"What?"

"That day when Phil was an ass to you, I was so pissed off at him I could have kicked the shit out of him for treating you like that, making you feel like nothing." He shook his head. "But last night, the way I spoke to you, I can't describe how wrong it was. I treated you in a way I don't think anyone should ever treat you. And that is nobody's fault but my own."

My eyes watered as I heard him turn the words he'd used on me last night around on himself.

"Trying to calm Rosalie in the kitchen, I was brought back to the days when she wasn't even a shell of herself, and until I heard myself hurting you with my own words, I wasn't in the present. But as soon as I reminded you of her suicidal thoughts and saw the devastation in your face, I was back. It was like a snap, and everything I said to you just keeps playing itself over and over. I swear to you on my life that I will never behave like that again. I won't allow anyone to treat you that way, least of all me. You are far too good for me, Bella. You're too good for anyone. But I'm yours. If you want me, I'm yours."

I looked closely at him. His eyes were on mine, and then down at his hands in his lap. They were fisted tight. I took them.

"We all made mistakes. You were only eighteen when you, all by yourself, were helping your best friend through the worst situation. I tried so hard not to let it bother me, and when it did, when I felt jealousy or anger creeping up, I swallowed it, pushed it away, and ignored it because I knew that whatever Rosalie was facing was worse than anything I was feeling. But maybe if I hadn't held everything in, it wouldn't have been on my mind last night and I wouldn't have brought it up. I'm not taking the blame, but I'm just saying that we all had a part to play in how things turned out last night. And Edward, I'm not too good for you. I need people to stop telling me that I'm too good, or perfect, because those are impossible standards to live up to. In fact, if you weren't so adamant about me being perfect, maybe when I make mistakes like the one I made last night, you wouldn't go off the deep end like you did. It wouldn't be so shocking to you if you didn't expect perfection."

"You're right." He tucked hair behind my ear and held me at the back of my neck. "I won't say you're perfect, but I just have to… thank you for being you." He kissed me, and it was slow and soft, his fingers in my hair at the nape of my neck. I sunk into his hold.

"What happened in the kitchen last night?"

"Bella." His fingers traced around my ear. "She was crying and she wouldn't let Emmett comfort her. She wouldn't say anything for the longest time. She just kept crying and shaking her head at me. And I waited."

"When she finally did say something?"

"She um…" He frowned and looked down, both of his hands in his lap now. "She said that I was the only person she could talk to back then because we'd both always counted on each other. Growing up together, it had become automatic that we would talk our problems out with each other or ask advice, anything. Just like when you asked me why she was the only one in the group I told about my decision to propose to you. I didn't have an answer other than that it was automatic. I didn't even think of it that way; I just did it. So, I knew what she meant. She went on to say that she didn't realize she'd been wrong about that, and she was sorry to have been such a burden on me. She'd rather I ignored her than take care of her out of some sort of _knightly_ obligation. By then she wasn't crying anymore. She wasn't angry either, but she was still irrational. She asked me why I continued a charade, instead of just telling her that I couldn't be there for her. Why did I allow her to lean on me just to go home and… and complain to you about it." His eyes came back to mine. "I tried to tell her that wasn't how it was at all, but she wouldn't believe me, and she said that I was only continuing to humiliate her by lying about it. That was when I left the kitchen."

"Did she tell you that she still sees Irina everyday?"

"Yeah, I know that. I know that she also often relives the accident. And she will probably always hold some amount of blame in what happened no matter how much therapy she seeks."

I leaned back against his chest and his fingers drifted up and down my arm.

"I'm going to try to reach out to her more. When Alice was here, Rosalie mentioned how distant I've been. I really have been, I guess. I knew she and Emmett were having a hard time, but last night made me realize that her problems are much deeper than that."

"Last night was such a mess," he said.

"It's over now," I said.

"Bella, do you feel alone?"

I turned and put my hand on his chest, felt his skin, and smiled. Whatever this feeling was, it was definitely not _alone_.

"No."

He titled my face toward him to kiss me. It felt good to have everything out in the open between Edward and me, and Rosalie. And I would have loved to continue kissing him, but it was Sunday and I had to work. The sun was starting to shine through the window, and I knew by the delicate sight of it that it was time for me to get ready.

In the shower, I tried not to think about the events that had happened over the past ten hours, but I couldn't stop the thoughts. Similar to Edward, I played over and over what was and wasn't said the night before. I thought of Emmett's silence, and remembered his fear of Rosalie leaving and never coming back, something he still probably hadn't mentioned to her, but a big reason for his silence, and something that was surely adding to their problems. I'd learned that feelings held in could come back with a bite. They could take off a limb. And all of Rosalie's feelings... how long had she been holding them inside herself, stacking block after block of hurt and pain on top of her fragility?

Something had happened between her and me last night, and even if we'd talked it out, I wasn't sure we could get back what we once had. I now had a mistrust in her. I had a guard up and the feeling that I couldn't trust her enough to confide in her. Even Edward couldn't do that, as close as they were. She felt things with a sensitivity that she seemed to lose or ignore when she spoke to others. I'd known that much since I'd first met her. I'd known it, but I hadn't acknowledged it.

But some of the things she'd said--how she wasn't living up to whom she wanted to be, or whom her sister would want her to be. Rosalie desired to be a better person, but she honestly was unsure how to go about it. Could I help her with that? Did she really want to be more like me and Irina, as she'd stated? How could she want to be like two people she seemed to resent? Me and the memory of her sister.

I let the water rinse my soap away and decided I'd plan a visit to Berkeley. Masen was nursing less than ever, and was drinking milk from his cup more than from my breasts at this point. He would be fine without me for a night. I dressed in the bathroom, towel-dried my hair, then scooped up my laundry and headed out. Emmett was exiting his room at the same time. Nobody else was in the living room. I could hear voices in the kitchen, and Masen's laugh.

"B," Emmett said, and without any other words, he reached out to hug me. His hugs were still as strong as ever, and he lifted me. "Which talk show should we contact? I'm sure we'd have our pick of several very respectable ones."

"Trying to lighten the mood?"

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "I can't call you 'love' anymore, B."

"That's fine with me. I prefer it when you call me 'B.' It was the first nickname you gave me. It should be the one to stick."

He smiled before heading toward the kitchen.

"Hey, Emmett?"

He turned back.

"Will we all ever be what we once were?"

He took steps toward me. "We're growing up, B. Our perspectives of the world are changing. So, no, we can't go back. That's impossible. But we can move forward. If we try hard enough and want it enough, we can be better than we were before. Capicse?"

"I guess so."

"You never know. Maybe that blow-out last night was just what we all needed. A big kick in our asses. Something's wrong in our dynamic and it's not all you, Edward, Rosalie or me. It's the group of us. We know that now. We can work on it. See?"

"What do ya know? You have the capability to be optimistic and reassuring. Now go be that way with Rosalie."

"Yes ma'am. Will do."

Typically on Sundays, Edward would stay home with Masen, but that Sunday, they both came to work with me. Edward saw the apartment and fell in love with its possibilities the way I knew he would, and he met Mrs. Pollazzi for the first time. We sat together on the bed and breakfast sofa, Masen moving back and forth between Edward's lap and mine. I'd noticed Edward's gaze drawn to the piano more than a few times. It made me smile.

"$600.00 a month," she said, sitting in her chair, a finger to her lips.

I looked at Edward. "I can pay that with one paycheck." Then I turned to Mrs. Pollazzi. "We can't move in until June."

"Then it will be here for you and your boy in June."

"Edward," he said, smiling. "My name's Edward. Not boy."

She laughed and patted his knee. "You're all right," she said.

* * *

**A/N**: Review please. :)


	39. Adrift

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

myimm0rtal has set up a _Not Without You_ discussion thread at Twillighted(dot)net

www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=7726&p=829227#p829227

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 39: Adrift

In February, the sky opened. The near three months worth of rain that seemed to have been stored overhead swelled in the bloated sky until it was released like a strangled breath suddenly freed. It rained nineteen days out of twenty-eight. By mid-month, early cherry blossoms of white and pink had started to open on trees, but they were mostly looked upon through closed windows, while the full essence of their beauty was obscured by shadows from the constant, steel-gray sky. Strong wind helped heavy raindrops prematurely shove many a bloom off its branch.

Even with the leafless deciduous trees, puddled streets, and muddy parks, Palo Alto's appearance wasn't much altered by winter when compared to the extreme change I'd experienced in Forks. There, the ground would be so stark with snow it would burn my eyes. Trees would be dressed in winter elegance, while icicles hung like sharp crystal shards from roofs and over porches--some so huge and spiky, nobody would dare step under them. And on many days, the path in front of me was like a cloud itself, billowing with falling snow.

No such change occurred here. But still, the wind was frosty enough on some evenings to reach through my chest and chill my heart and lungs. Having only lived in Forks for two years, I hardly missed that frozen world. But everyone else did.

Emmett and Rosalie missed winter so much that since it wasn't going to come to them, they decided to go to it. They took a three day weekend in February to drive up to Lake Tahoe. There was no way I could take that busy weekend off work, especially as a new employee--I didn't even ask.

On their return, Emmett and Rosalie's photographs told a better story than their spoken words. They spoke to Edward and me about stop-and-go traffic; chains needed on tires regardless of the four-wheel-drive; snow and wind that wouldn't let up because even when it wasn't plunging from the sky, snow was blown around from tree branches, creating its own separate blizzard.

But their pictures offered a different tale. A gorgeous couple standing ankle deep in snow, donning scarves, knit hats, pink cheeks--vibrant colors against white--and endless smiles. A snow man, round and wide and taller than Emmett, branch-arms reaching out, stood between them. It smiled, too.

* * *

Everyday after work, the rain kept Masen and me away from the park for lunch, so we'd head next door to the apartment that would soon be ours. It already felt like home. I was comfortable there, and at times didn't want to leave. I'd removed the sheets from the old blue sofa and the maple dining table--revealing a few fork or knife nicks in the wood.

I let Masen wander around and explore. Edward joined us there on a few of his free days, and we played house like children. We ate sitting on the sofa one day, at the dining table another day, and picnicked on the floor of the empty bedroom on another day. Once, we delayed our exit so long that Masen fell asleep. We laid him down on the faded gold flowers of the living room sofa, and thought we'd shower together to _test the water flow_. But naked in the bathroom, Edward and I discovered that the water had yet to be turned on. Unable to ignore our nakedness, we ended up tangled together and laughing on the bedroom floor.

The second weekend in March, Mrs. Pollazzi allowed me a Friday and Saturday off to visit Rosalie. There were only two occupied rooms at that time, and the old woman would take care of them for me.

I packed up some clothes and gave Masen enough hugs and kisses to hopefully tide me over for the next twenty-four hours or so. On Fridays, Edward's final class ended before noon, and he would typically head straight to work to make up for the hours missed since he'd cut back his work days. But on this Friday, he left class early and scheduled the day off work so he could drive me to the BART station, and then take care of Masen until I returned.

The air held the unmistakable fresh sent of after-rain, the streets and sidewalks still damp in some areas, but the sun was hard at work on that.

"I'll miss you," Edward said, hugging me with his free arm as we waited for the train. Masen was on his daddy's hip and reached around my neck, too.

"Bye, Baby," I said.

"Bah," Masen said, his form of "bye" in his deep little seventeen-month-old voice.

"Are you trying to make it harder for me to leave?" I asked him.

"Ma-ma," he said, and touched my face.

I looked at Edward--maybe he'd give me an excuse to stay.

"Go, Bella," he said instead. "We'll see you tomorrow. Right here." He kissed the side of my head, and we felt the rumble of the train approaching. He held me tighter.

I kissed them both goodbye and reluctantly left them behind to board the 12:16 train.

"Bella, wait!" Edward called, and I looked back. He was walking toward me. When he got to me, he took my hand, ran his lips over each of my fingers, and closed his eyes. "Take care of yourself."

The doors opened and I followed the few others who were waiting with me on to the train. I sat back in my seat, my legs pulled to my chest and read a book, occasionally looking up to take in words. Out the window were roof tops or

hills of green. I knew that in a few short months they would already be brown again. But now they were such a soft, pale green that I could almost smell it through the window. The trees that crowded those hills were budding with leaves--winter nearly gone before it arrived. As cold, gray rooftops and busy shopping centers with big over-filled parking lots came into view, my eyes fell back to the open page.

Less than an hour after boarding the train, Rosalie greeted me at the downtown Berkeley station. She hugged me tight.

"Thank you for coming, Bella." She smiled, and something was different about it. It was wider, and remained on her lips longer than usual.

Rosalie's dorm building was immense and stone-like, appearing more like it housed offices than student rooms, but I really only had Stanford to compare it to. I stared up at it as she took my backpack and slung it over her shoulder, her own bag weighing down her other side.

"Come on," she said and guided me away from her dormitory. I looked back at it. "I have one more class. I thought about skipping it, but it's only an hour long, and I knew you'd love it."

It was her nineteenth century British Literature course, and she'd been right. I did love it. I loved it too much and it wasn't mine. I watched and listened from my desk next to Rosalie as the students discussed and argued over their reading, the professor standing at the front of the room with her hands on her hips and her over-sized glasses slipping down her nose. Something strange occurred in my throat, and my mouth grew incredibly dry. There was a nausea in my stomach and a lightness in my head that I hadn't felt since my first trimester of pregnancy. I had to get out of there. I grabbed my bag and left without a word to Rosalie.

She followed me out. "What happened back there?"

"I-I don't belong in there."

She laughed. "Why not? It's just your thing."

I knew she was right, and I knew why I left, but I found myself lying to her. "I just… I shouldn't be there. It's not my class and I feel like everyone knows I'm not a student here. It made me very uncomfortable."

She tilted her head at me, her lips pursed, and I wondered if she saw through my lie, if she knew that the real reason I left was because I found myself wishing that it _was_ my class, and that I'd be back for more and actually involve myself in the discussion.

"Okay…" she said. "Let's go get lunch."

We strolled through campus, a long walk to the parking lot where she'd left her car. Of all the nearby places to get pizza on campus or within walking distance off University Avenue, Rosalie wanted me to experience what she called the only pizza anyone should ever eat in Berkeley. Driving around campus on her way out, she pointed at buildings or landmarks that meant something to her, and as we approached University Avenue, I noticed what looked to be like naked people covered only by signs that read something to the effect of "I can't afford clothes," or "I traded my clothes for my tuition."

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Oh, they're protesting the tuition fee increase. It's increasing thirty percent next year. Do you want to join them?" She smiled and raised her eyebrows at me.

I laughed. "No, thank you. They must be freezing." I looked back. Some were wrapped up in blankets, taking breaks. I wondered if they would accomplish anything in their protest aside from catching a cold.

"People love to be heard here," Rosalie said, turning through a residential area. The street was narrow and darkened under the shade of old trees. It was almost like being in a cave, seeming as though there was nothing outside of this street. No Telegraph Avenue full of students, tourists, shops and restaurants, no hills now carpeted with green and covered with trees, and certainly no university. "It's nothing like Forks where everyone just takes life as it comes. Here, everyone wants to make changes."

She made another turn, and in that instant, we were back in city. Streets were lined with low, flat-roofed aging shops next to tall office buildings, broken up only by parking lots or gas stations. This scenery gave the impression that this city was merely a place for businesses--residential life non-existent. Berkeley seemed to contradict itself with every turn.

We had to wait in a long line outside to get our pizza, and then when we made it to the front, there was no choice. This place only served one type of pizza a day. The chefs decided what it would be each day, you'd pay for it, and according to Rosalie, you'd love and savor every bite.

There were only outdoor tables for dining, and the air was too cold for that, so we took the pizza back to her dorm room. She sat on her bed and I sat at her desk. I had no trouble admitting to Rosalie that this spinach pesto pizza I hadn't ordered, nor ever would have chosen for myself, was the best pizza I'd ever eaten. I made it clear with involuntary "mms" and "ahhs."

There were two tall chests of drawers on opposite walls. I knew which one was Rosalie's because of the framed photo on top of it--her and Emmett next to their snowman. There were no other personal pictures. Not even any of Irina. At our Stanford apartment she'd had that one photo of her sister in the living room, and I knew she had one on Emmett's bedside table, but nothing of Irina here.

Rosalie's roommate's side of the room was a mess. Unmade bed, wrinkled clothing piled everywhere, makeup spilled over the bed.

"She never cleans," Rosalie said. "Never. I don't know how she lives like that. I can't even look at it. And she's rarely even here. She comes to make a bigger mess and then leaves."

I tried not to look either. It was the kind of mess that made me feel like I couldn't move.

"Here." Rosalie took her throw blanket off the end of her bed and covered the disaster of her roommates bed, hiding much of the mess. "Better."

"What do you want to do when you finish school?" I asked her.

"I'm not sure yet. I've thought about continuing for my masters. I'd really love to work in publishing. What if I could discover the next American classic?"

"If anyone could do that, you could."

"I know."

I smiled at her. For as many insecurities that had attached themselves to Rosalie like leeches clinging tightly, uncertainty in her capabilities wasn't one of them. I envied that about her. Even if she felt lost, she was always sure of her future, sure that she'd be successful no matter what she chose to do.

Her roommate bounded into the room then, followed by a guy who I assumed was her boyfriend. They were holding hands, but only by fingertips.

"Hey," she said. "Be right back, bathroom." She left and her boyfriend sat on her bed, on top of Rosalie's blanket.

"Rosalie," he said, holding out his hand. "Let me read your palm. I watched Madame Selene earlier. I've figured her out."

"No."

"What, are you afraid of what I might see in your future?"

"You won't see my future. You'll see skin and lines, that's it."

"You can't be sure of that if you don't let me try. Come on."

"No."

"I'm not going to bite you." He took her wrist, but she pulled it away as if he'd scorched her.

"I'm not afraid of you biting me. I just don't want you touching me."

"How about you?" he asked me. "What's your name? I haven't seen you here before."

"Marcus, this is my best friend, Bella," Rosalie said, "and you're not touching her, either."

"All right, fine." He held up his hands. "Your futures can remain question marks."

"Better than exclamation points," Rosalie said.

"How do you figure?"

"I figure because a question has many possibilities. An exclamation point is final. I don't expect you to understand. You're not Emmett."

"Speaking of Emmett," I said, "has he met Emmett?" I couldn't imagine he would be this forward with Rosalie if he'd met her boyfriend.

"Marcus is on his best behavior when Emmett's around," Rosalie said.

The roommate reentered, and Rosalie introduced the auburn haired girl as Devyn.

"Why is your blanket on my bed?" Devyn asked, not bothering to acknowledge me. She shooed Marcus away to remove the blanket.

"Your mess was embarrassing Bella."

"Rosalie!" I said.

"I mean your mess was embarrassing _me_. Just cover it up while Bella's here, won't you?"

"Do whatever you want. We're out." She took her boyfriend's fingers and led him to the door. He waved at us.

"Keep away from guys like Marcus," Rosalie said. "If you let them touch you or give them any attention at all, they look at it as an invitation. He'd automatically think you want him."

"But isn't he Devyn's boyfriend?"

"Not all boyfriends are as loyal as Emmett and Edward. He cheats on Devyn right in front of her. He hits on me in front of her too, and she hates me for it."

"So, this is what life at UC Berkeley is like for you?" I asked.

"Stanford is looking really beautiful to you right now, isn't it?"

I laughed, taking another bite of pizza. "What are you talking about? This is glamorous."

Before evening draped the day, Rosalie took me out to show me her favorite view. She drove up a hill and around the stadium, the road covered by trees taller than many of the buildings. Looking down the hill as we drove, I saw the campus theater too, recognizing it by the Shakespeare banner slung across the front.

We continued up the hill until she made a sudden stop, and we exited the car. I followed her to the edge of a cliff. It seemed we could see all of Berkeley from where we were. We could see where nature met city and city met neighborhood and then block after block to the coast, where we could see all the way to the bay.

"_This_ is what life at UC Berkeley is like for me."

"How do you ever leave this spot?" I asked her, my breath taken by the view and carried on the wind. I pulled my coat around me to block the building breeze. I couldn't shield it from my face, though. It was so much colder up here.

"I probably wouldn't leave if I had the choice. Look," she said, and I reigned my gaze in from the peninsula to where Rosalie pointed just a few feet down the hill. We watched two fawns following their mother across our path. If they noticed us, they didn't acknowledge us--no pause, glance, no running off. They gracefully strolled by.

"They shed their antlers, you know, like a snake sheds its skin? Sometimes you can find them just lying around, discarded. And when the new antlers grow in, they're covered in velvet at first, but the deer scrapes that off against a tree or the ground until they're just bone."

Somehow the vision of the deer and the thought of them outgrowing their antlers reminded me of Masen, and I had an overwhelming desire to call Edward.

I left Rosalie where she was and went to the car to make one of many calls I'd make to Edward in the next fourteen hours.

While I was on the phone, the breeze had pushed clouds into each other, threading them together to form one heavy and huge cloud, giving the illusion that the entire sky was moving.

Rain chased us back to the car and back to the dorm, where we waited for it to calm down. It never really did, and Rosalie gave up waiting.

"You never have time without Masen. We're going out even if we get drenched," she said.

She took me to a basement bar with black walls and red tabletops. The walls had writing all over them in white, but I never looked closely enough, or squinted hard enough in the dim light to read them. A band played and a pale rapper rapped fast and loud as we entered. I followed Rosalie, watching her walk, her head and shoulders straight--parallel to the ground, her legs moving smoothly. She didn't bounce like Alice, or mope like I so often saw Rosalie do when she visited Stanford. I recognized her Berkeley walk, though. I hadn't seen it--not like this--since before her accident. At Stanford, with Emmett and the rest of us, her shoulders slumped, and her eyes watched the ground, her hair falling forward, often covering her features as she walked.

And I realized she'd been walking this Berkeley walk all day, and she even had a separate Berkeley smile. What was the difference here in Berkeley from there in Stanford?

I thought about that as she introduced me to everyone. Yes, she seemed to know everyone there, including the bartender.

"He'll serve you if you want," she said.

I shook my head.

"It's no big deal, Bella, really. No one here will hit on you. I'll see to that."

For the first time, I looked around at the people. I recalled the faces she introduced me to, mostly guys, all keeping their distance like they knew they had no chance with her. As beautiful as she was, there was no point in trying. Maybe they already had and she'd shot them down. Or maybe it was just something they saw in her, this different Rosalie who stood tall in her worn down sneakers.

Still, I declined the offer for alcohol and we both brought our cokes to a tall, chair-free table. I leaned against it on my arms, taking her in again. Was it therapy? Was that the difference? But how could it have changed her so quickly? She wasn't even like this on her visit last weekend.

"They have this song," she said, pointing to the band, "about throwing out furniture." She took a sip of her drink and then rolled her eyes. "It's a favorite."

I took a sip of my drink, too, peering down into the brown liquid abyss. There I saw Rosalie's only picture in her Berkeley dorm, and I saw the framed photo of Irina in our apartment that she made sure she dusted on each visit. My eyes lifted to Rosalie again, who was facing the stage. I saw her profile and the small smile on her lips. It finally hit me. Here, she could be someone else. Nobody here knew of Rosalie's past, or that there ever was an Irina. They didn't know how her father had blamed her, or that worse, she blamed herself. This Berkeley Rosalie never had a sister, and she was social, and went to costume parties wearing makeup and dressed as an angel. This Rosalie was a regular at a bar, and knew which songs of the band's were popular.

She couldn't be this Rosalie with us at Stanford. The rest of us knew too much. We probably reminded her in our faces.

What must it have been like for her to move week after week, morphing from the façade of an ideal life to the reality of a life with a horribly flawed past? She was pretending here, a pretense she'd have to give up every time she came back to us. She was forced to face whom she really was with us. As much as I loved seeing this Berkeley version of Rosalie, I wasn't convinced it was healthy. I didn't mention any of this to her--couldn't bring it up here. I'd wait.

That night we shared her single bed. I slept as far over against the wall as possible to leave her some room. Sometime during the night, Rosalie awoke with a gasp.

"What's wrong?" I asked groggily, turning toward her. Her back was to me.

"Nothing. Nothing. Just a dream."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, Bella. Go back to sleep."

I turned around, my head returning to the pillow.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?" I faced her again.

"It's not fair. Nothing happened to me. Why do you think nothing happened to me? I don't even have a scar?"

I brought my hand to her shoulder. She was cold, so I pulled the blanket over her. "Do you have dreams about it a lot?"

"Not a lot. Not anymore. Only when I'm reminded of it."

"When were you reminded of it?"

"Earlier, when I drove you around. It makes me nervous whenever I drive anyone in my car. It brings me back. Accidents are so quick, Bella. Faster than a fucking blink. You have to be so aware and even then…"

I nodded and lay next to her, my arm over her shoulders.

"That day of the memorial? I fell asleep in your room. I was so tired, but I hadn't been sleeping. Not really at all--for days. I saw her dress hanging in your closet. So I took it and held onto it, and finally I could sleep."

"I remember."

"You came in," she said. "You climbed in bed with me and didn't say a word."

"You were awake?"

"I heard you open the door, but you were so quiet, and your touch was so gentle that for a second I thought I'd imagined you. But your breathing was real. What you gave me that day, I needed so badly, but I had to pretend to be asleep. If I were awake, really awake, I would have resisted it."

"But why?"

She turned on her back and looked at me. "The pain was mine. It was what I took away from the accident. I walked away without a scratch and Irina didn't. My world turned while hers stood still. I needed to stand still, too. I didn't deserve to move forward or feel relief. If I got to live when she didn't, then I deserved to ache. No scar. No physical pain to constantly remind… remind me of what I thought I'd done."

"Rosalie, not all scars are visible. You know?"

She turned around again. "Sorry. Go back to sleep. Really." She patted my hand as if I were a child.

I wondered why she felt the need to apologize for talking about the accident. I asked her if she'd found a therapist. She said her advisor had recommended one, and she was seeing her every Wednesday.

"You can talk to me whenever you want," I said, but she didn't reply, so I let her sleep.

In the morning, Rosalie walked me to the BART station, and when the doors opened on the other side of the bay, I saw Edward and Masen right away and went to them. I took Masen from his daddy as Edward took my bag from my shoulder. I squeezed and kissed my little laughing boy.

Edward and I looked at each other for a moment, smiling, and then he kissed me. His kisses grew stronger against my lips as it began to feel like I'd been away for weeks instead of one day. I didn't know how Rosalie managed it, living so far from Emmett.

"Did you have fun?" Edward asked, still kissing me.

"Mm-hmm…"

We kissed until I felt Masen's wet, open mouth press against my cheek. I laughed.

"It's good to see you and touch you," Edward said. "I slept with your picture last night." He gave me a crooked smile and looked down.

"I slept with Rosalie."

In the car, I told Edward about my visit, skipping the part where I'd fled from Rosalie's class. At home, I ran straight for the bathroom, and it was in there where I faced myself. Not in the mirror, but seated on the toilet. As I reached for the toilet paper, I noticed for the hundredth-odd time that the silver holder was slanted. Each time I'd absently tugged at the roll, it gave me the odd sensation that it would tumble from the holder. That feeling brought my glance to the roll as I realized, once again, that it was still securely in place. The holder reminded me at that moment, just home from Berkeley, a bit of my own life. Not straight and even, but slanted, and not necessarily un-working, but off somehow, askew.

And whoever had installed this holder must have noticed that it was off center, but didn't bother to fix it. "It'll work," he must have justified. And he was right.

And just like that man, I'd turned myself askew. It had been my doing, really, a conscious choice--"it'll work". Flushing the toilet, and washing my hands, I admitted to myself the once easy mistake I'd let leave my lips so that Edward could be happy, free of guilt. The fact that I could easily postpone college. That statement had seemed so simple once, as I 'd rested on Edward's lap in the forest, afraid we might be separated. So simple that I, myself, believed it to be true. And for fear of separation, I kept repeating it again and again, just as easily.

Now, without the threat of losing Edward, while everyone around me was a college student, having attended a class myself, it was no longer easy. But how on earth could I untangle myself from my own knotted words and promises that had grown to encompass my life? At seventeen, a year before I'd have been college ready anyway, postponing college seemed like nothing. A few more years was all. I never accounted for the possibility of my feelings changing--especially once I was experiencing life on a college campus.

If I admitted this to Edward, he'd want me to start college as soon as possible. But if we couldn't manage both of us in school simultaneously, with bills, work, each other, and our baby, then what? I knew Edward too well. Every moment that Edward spent in class or with studies would be spent clouded with guilt--that was, if he didn't quit school altogether for my benefit. What would admitting these feelings do to us? Could I just suck it up, take responsibility for the position I'd put myself in for the sake of my family?

I left the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Edward and Masen were playing on the floor, rolling a foam ball back and forth.

For their sake, I was sure I could do that. I could live with my past mistakes. After all, it wasn't only my life that wasn't straight, was it? Rosalie's road had certainly had its twists and turns. And Alice and Jasper dealt with human hardship daily--lives not only askew, but turned upside down, perhaps unrecognizable to the people living them.

I stopped thinking about my slightly slanted and uncertain future as a negative thing. It was simply a truth about myself I could live with.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked, stopping the ball. Masen hit his knees impatiently, wanting the ball to come back to him.

"Yeah." I nodded.

"Are you sure?" His eyebrows furrowed.

"I think so." I went to them and sat down, tapping Edward's leg. "Make room. I want to play."

* * *

**Please review. Thank you!**


	40. Flesh

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 40: Flesh

Rosalie planned on spending the first part of Spring Break with us at the Stanford apartment, and then she and Emmett would go to Berkeley together since my mother had finally set aside time for a visit. I didn't blame either of them for wanting to disappear, considering the tension that came coiled around her, clutching at anyone within reach.

On Wednesday, before she and Emmett left, before my mother was due to arrive, and while Edward worked, I took Rosalie with Masen and me to the arboretum. It was much greener than the last time I'd visited, and the birds had returned, loud in their chirps and squawks. The air was fresh, a mix of wet grass and damp earth.

"Look up," I said when I noticed Rosalie watching her feet as we walked. "You look up in Berkeley, you can look up here, too."

"They call _this_ an arboretum? It's so open." She squinted out across the grass, the sun bringing a shine to the blades.

"I know there aren't as many trees as you'd expect, but I like it here. This is my favorite spot," I said, pointing toward my tree.

"Great," she said without any attempt to hide her lack of enthusiasm. "You sit on the wet ground?"

"Rosalie, stop complaining and take a deep breath. Smell it."

She closed her eyes and breathed in. "It's nice," she said.

"Eucalyptus."

"You did learn something from me," Caius said from behind us. I turned to greet him. Riley was on his shoulders, both of them in their signature caps. Masen clapped and kicked his feet. I let him out of my sling, and, as if forgetting what brought on his excitement in the first place, he ignored Riley, wandered to the tree and began picking at the bark.

"You look surprised to see me," Caius said.

"It's vacation."

"I always come here when I have Riley. You know that."

Rosalie looked at me.

"I thought you only came during breaks from class."

"Well… now you know," he said, and I felt Rosalie's eyes on me again. I turned to her.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"It's something. What?"

"Nothing."

"You know," Caius said to me while he bent to let Riley down. "It's getting kind of late to apply to college. Have you made a decision?"

"You're applying to college?" Rosalie asked.

"Um, no," I said, playing with the ends of my hair in need of something to do with my hands. "I just-"

"This is why you ran out of class that day. I _knew_ something was up with you."

"She ran out of a class?" Caius asked.

"She sure did," Rosalie said, still eying me. "A class I knew she'd love."

"I didn't run. I walked. But, I don't have time to go to college. When would I go? When would I study? I can't be away from Masen that much." I lifted Masen, but he complained and reached for the ground, so I released him again.

"There's no law that says you have to go to school full-time," Caius said. "You could take one class a day. Hell, you could take one class a week."

I stared at him. I stared a little too long. He was right. Why hadn't I thought of that? I kept assuming that I'd go to college full-time, and in an ideal world, that's what I'd do, but it wasn't an ideal world, and nothing was ever set in stone. I could really get something out of it by only enrolling in one or two classes.

Rosalie may have misread my stare. "I'm sure Edward and Bella are working it out. This is none of our business." She smiled at me. "None."

"Yeah, we'll work it out," I said, not returning the smile.

I didn't smile all the way home on the shuttle either.

She took Masen off my lap, kissed him, told him she'd miss him, then let him stand on her legs so he could look out the window. "It'll be fine. Don't worry about it," she said.

"What'll be fine?"

"Your mom's visit." She touched my forehead right between my eyebrows. "I can tell you're worried about it."

"I'm not worried about it. I used to stress over my mom, but not anymore. I know how to level with her now."

We were silent the rest of the drive, and then back at the apartment, I was still inside my head thinking about college. I forced a smile when I said goodbye to Emmett and Rosalie, and after I put Masen down for nap, I opened Edward's laptop.

I knew San Francisco State was my first choice, and my heart sped up when I pulled up the website. The possibility had grown. It was in reach. I checked out the literature program, and if I couldn't force myself to smile earlier, I couldn't stop myself from smiling at the screen now. I closed the laptop and lay on my back on the bed. I was going to apply. I knew it now. I closed my eyes and let myself dream of the campus I'd only seen in pictures, the overcast sky that would more than likely become a familiar sight. The smell in the air. Would I be able to smell the ocean from there?

I felt lips on mine. "Are you sleeping? You're smiling, Bella."

"Edward." I hugged him tight around his neck, and he laughed, falling on top of me.

"What's up?" he asked.

"I have something to tell you."

"Something good?"

I nodded. "I hope you think it's good."

"Anything that makes you happy is good." He kissed me--he gave me his tongue, and I welcomed it with a moan.

"Edward," I said, sitting up, trying to catch my breath. "Listen…"

Then we both listened--to the sound of knocking at the door.

"It's my mom," I said, "she's early." I headed toward the living room, but Edward grabbed my hand. "Wait. Quick, tell me what it is."

I gave him a quick kiss instead, my hand on his shoulder to balance myself as I stood on tip-toe. "Later. It's not a quick conversation. I'll tell you when my mom is distracted by Masen."

My mother had cut her hair. It was shorter than Alice's and lightened, almost white. But it made her look older. There were lines at the corners of her eyes that stood out more now. I didn't tell her any of that when I hugged her.

She held her hand out for Edward--still not ready for a hug, I supposed. He kissed her hand, and that got a smirk from me.

"Where's Masen?" she asked. "I've missed him."

"Napping. Come in."

She looked around the apartment, and I braced myself for her critique. I realized then that Rosalie had been right. I was still nervous around my mom. My mind had just been otherwise occupied earlier. I couldn't sit still. I had to keep busy, so I decided to bake cookies. She followed me into the kitchen and filled me in on her life with Phil and her travels, while I stirred ingredients and kneaded the dough. She tried to show me the _right_ way to knead, and I let her, then went back to doing it Mrs. Pollazzi's way when she took a seat at the table.

I joined her there while the cookies baked in the oven, thinking of how Mrs. Pollazzi would have laughed at my mother correcting her way of baking. I was using an original recipe of Mrs. Pollazzi's after all. I was sure she knew more about kneading dough than my mother.

We sat in silence for too long. I began to understand why people smoke: it offers something to do when words evade us. I decided to tell my mom about Mrs. Pollazzi and my job.

"You're a cleaning lady?"

"Not just a cleaning lady. I cook, too. I bake, and I really like that part."

She nodded as if she understood, but then raised her eyebrows like I was lying.

"You don't believe I like it?" I asked.

"I believe you're making the best of it, but I don't believe it's making you happy," she said.

"Can everything in life make us happy every second? If I wanted to be happy all the time, Edward and Masen would never leave my side."

"What?" Edward said, entering the kitchen. "I heard my name."

I didn't answer him, my focus still on my mom. "Why do you always do this?!" I stood up, my chair scraping the floor. "You always have this infallible way of making me feel bad about who I am."

"Bella," Edward said, reaching for my hand, just as the oven timer went off.

"What I'm doing now," I said, making my way to the oven, "is my way of being with Edward and my baby. And I'm happy with the way things are. This is the way they're supposed to be."

"Of course it is," Edward said.

"There's no _supposed to be_," my mom said. "That's a childish belief. If there were a 'supposed to be,' you'd be in college the way you and I both know you _want_ to be."

I switched off the oven and pulled the door open. "Mom, would you just-"

"Bella, STOP!" Edward said just as I reached for the sheet of cookies, bare-handed.

I screamed, dropping the baking sheet back on the rack, and jerking my hand away. Edward pulled me roughly to the sink, running the water and getting my hands under the cool stream before I fully felt the burn. But then the pain was there, and it was excruciating. Even under the cold water, my hand felt like it was on fire. I buried my face in Edward's shoulder, tears leaving my eyes nearly as fast as the water left the faucet.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I shook my head against his shoulder.

"She needs ice," my mom said, reaching into the freezer.

"No, she doesn't. Ice isn't good for her right now. It could make it worse," Edward said, firmer than necessary. He turned my hand over, still under the water, and opened my fingers. "It's not quite a second degree burn," he said to me. "You're going to be fine, okay?" He kissed my wet face and squeezed my sobbing shoulder.

"How do you know? You're not a doctor," my mom said.

"Renee, I need you to leave the kitchen now."

"Why? You're blaming me? We may have been arguing, but it's not my fault she burned herself. I'm only trying to help."

Edward turned toward my mom. "No, the burn isn't your fault. But I'm sick of the way you treat Bella. She is the most amazing person I know, and I don't want her to feel anything less. The way you make her feel about herself sticks with her long after you're gone, and it pisses me off!" He stopped and took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. "Please… go wait in the living room while I take care of the woman I love."

He reached for a bowl from the cupboard and held it under my hand, catching the water. Then he rested it on the counter, and brought my hand to it, soaking my hand in the bowl. "Keep it there, love. Do you know where our first-aid kit is?"

"U-under the sink in th-the bathroom."

"I'll be right back." He kissed the end of my nose before he left.

I tried to calm myself while he was gone--tried not to feel the pain. I heard Masen's cries, and that was enough to distract me for a moment. "Where's Masen?" I asked when Edward returned.

"Your mom's getting him. Here, take this." He handed me a pill, then went to fill a glass with water. "It's Ibuprofen." I took the glass from him and swallowed the pill.

"Is your hand any better? I want the truth."

"No," I said.

"Okay. Thank you for the honesty for once. When the pain starts to ease up, I'll wrap some of this gauze around it." He set the role of gauze on the counter next to the bowl, and took my mom's old seat at the table, his head in his hands.

"What do you mean, _for once_? Are you angry with me?"

"Bella." He looked up and shook his head at me. "You never open up to me. I can't get you to do it. I didn't even know you were sick until you were in the hospital with anemia. And that was when you finally told me you wanted to work. If it hadn't have been for the anemia, maybe I still wouldn't know. And just now, I heard what your mom said before you burned your hand, and I saw the look on your face. You want college, don't you? And I don't mean after me. You want it now."

The tears in my eyes doubled up, carrying something else with them now. Something more than a burn.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about before my mom showed up," I said. "I didn't know I wanted it. I mean, not really. I didn't know how much I wanted it, I should say, until I visited Rosalie at Berkeley."

"You're so giving," Edward said, tears in his own eyes. "I thought it was perfection--you always giving. But you're selfless to a fault, Bella. And it ends up hurting you, which in turn hurts me, and eventually it'll hurt Masen. You know I want to make you happy, but I can't do that if I don't know what you want."

"I'm sorry, Edward." I withdrew my hand from the bowl to go to him, but he stopped me.

"Keep your hand there."

"Then, will you come here?"

He moved slowly, almost reluctantly, getting up from his chair and inching toward me. When he was close enough, I turned so I could put my free arm around him.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I wanted you to live your dream without worrying about me."

His arms came around me, and he kissed my head. "Let me watch you live your dreams, too. We can both do it. We can work it out."

"I know," I said.

"You do?"

I nodded. "I've decided I can go part-time. I can afford that with my college fund, too. I just decided today. I couldn't wait to tell you. I didn't think we could make it happen until Caius said-"

"_Caius_?" He let go of me and stood back. "He knew you were considering this, but I didn't?"

I stared at Edward as he backed away, realizing for the first time the extent of the harm I'd done. In trying to keep him happy and guilt-free, I'd kept him in the dark, and hurt him. Even if I hadn't meant to hurt him, I did, and he was backing away from me because of it, and I deserved it. I deserved to be backed away from, so I let him.

"When your hand feels less pain," he said without looking at me, and without inflection in his voice, "have your mom wrap it. Loosely." He left.

I pulled my throbbing hand from the bowl, and dropped to the floor.

"Edward," I called, but it was too late.

My mom came in. I heard her say my name.

"Get out!" I said. But it wasn't her fault. I'd done this to myself, so I let her put her arms around me.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I didn't mean to start something like this."

"You didn't do it." I leaned against her arm. Her hand came up and pushed hair from my forehead. "I did."

"Edward took Masen with him," she said, before I had to ask. "They left out the front."

I nodded, then cried on her shoulder for a few minutes before she said we had to take care of my hand. She wrapped it, and I told her what Edward had said about keeping the gauze loose. Then we sat there together on the hard kitchen floor. I told her that I'd decided to apply to college locally.

"And I still have my college fund," I said. "Financially, I think we'll be okay. I think we can scrape by."

"Phil will help you. We've talked about it before. He'll help pay for your tuition as long as you're in school. That's one less expense you'll have to worry about. You and… Edward."

"I thought Phil only wanted to help if I went separately from Edward."

"What gave you that idea?"

"Because he said..." I thought about what he'd said. Outside the Cullens' house, he'd definitely made it clear that he thought I was making a mistake coming to Stanford with Edward, but had he really implied that there was a condition to his offer of help, or had I assumed that?

"Either way, Bella. With or without Edward, we'll help you."

"Yeah." I wiped my face. "Well, it might be without, won't it?" I shook my head, tried to shake that thought away.

"Now you see what Phil and I have been trying to tell you. You've given all of yourself to Edward. And now, where will you live if things don't work out between you two? And your staying here with him is completely in his hands. If he wants you out, where do you think you'll go? What ever will you do? And with your sweet little boy?"

"Really, Mother? Do you think I need an 'I told you so' right now? If he dumps me, I deserve it."

"Don't be over-dramatic. And I was only trying to help you understand where Phil and I have been coming from. Not everyone is always going to say what you want to hear, Bella, but it by no means makes them wrong."

I nodded and sniffed. I'd been so angry at her for so long, that I'd never even considered anything she or Phil had said about college or the future, but like she said, they weren't completely wrong. It was time I listened.

"You know what, though?" I said. "Maybe it's not about what you're trying to tell me. Maybe it's the way you say it. You always make it seem like everything has to be your way or nothing. I can't do that. I have to run my own life my way, mistakes or not."

"I know it, sweetie." She squeezed me against her. "We've all had our minds in the wrong places. It's difficult to see eye-to-eye when we're not even facing each other."

I looked at her. Were we _facing_ each other now? Was it finally happening? Did it take a burn and a fight with Edward for my mom and I to really look at each other for the first time in over two years?

"I'm sorry Edward yelled at you earlier. I think it was too much for him, overhearing our argument, then the burn, and his realization that I haven't been talking to him about college."

"I had it coming, Bella. I'm surprised he's held back this long, the way he loves you. Watching his panic when you hurt yourself, and the way he took care of you despite his panic. I see him in a different light. I may have been mistaken about both of your maturity levels. It takes someone special to get into Stanford, and it takes even more to maintain grades while taking care of a family."

"Finally," I said. "Finally you see Edward for who he is. Took you long enough." I nudged her and she gave me a half-smile, and for just a minute, we weren't on the kitchen floor of a shared Stanford apartment in California; we were in our old house in Phoenix, on our shabby sofa, popcorn bowl between us, a comedy in the DVD player going unwatched as we faced each other, laughing and chatting about nothing at all.

After a few more minutes on the floor, she got up to finish removing the cookies from the oven. She moved them from the baking sheet to a cooling rack, though they were probably cool by now. The cookies went uneaten that night.

* * *

It was late when Edward returned. My mom was gone. Her eyes had been closing, and I insisted she go back to her hotel before she fell asleep. I was sitting up in bed, still awake, waiting, when Edward entered with a sleeping Masen on his shoulder.

"I know I messed up," I said, following him to the crib. "But you had our baby. Don't keep him away from me for so long again." I reached into Masen's crib, touching his face, but I didn't want to disturb his sleep.

"I needed time," Edward said.

I nodded. "Where did you go?"

"The piano."

I felt tears in my eyes when he said that. The pain I'd caused him ran deep. That much was evident.

"You've hurt me, Bella. I didn't think it was possible, but you did it. Choosing to talk to Caius over me. If I didn't know you better, I'd think that-"

"Don't think that. I would never do that to you." I put a finger over his lips, but he moved it.

"You wouldn't do _that_ to me, but you'd exclude me from your mind while letting him in?"

"We didn't talk about it like you think we did. He made suggestions and I followed them. It wasn't like there were long discussions."

"How's your hand?"

I lifted it. "Better," I said.

"That's good."

We stared at each other. At least he was looking at me.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, Edward. It wasn't my intention, but I realize that in trying not to hurt you, I did just that. I wish I could go back and do things differently, but I can't. And anyway, this is how we learn, isn't it? And the only reason Caius knew anything was because he told me about how he and his wife handled college with a baby. They both did it, and he opened my eyes to possibilities I'd never thought of before."

"Well, I'm glad he did that."

"You love me way too much."

He nodded, as if in agreement with me. Did he love me too much? Too much for his own good? I looked at his furrowed eyebrows. He must have been running the same wonderings through his own mind.

"Bella," he said, his gaze intense on my eyes. "This isn't going to work."

My heart jumped. It seemed to skip several beats. I couldn't feel it, and I began to wonder if it was inside my chest cavity at all. My bandaged hand reached for it. "What?" I may have said, but I didn't hear it come out.

"If you can't open up to me, we'll never work out."

"Don't say that. Never, ever say that." I brought my hand to his chest, then dropped my forehead to his chest, too. I had to feel him--his warmth, his heartbeat. I silently begged him not to move. _Don't step away. _"Nothing scares me more than that thought, Edward." I took his hand with my good one, and he let me. He grasped my fingers back. I brought his hand to my lips, then rubbed it along my face. I felt the tiny hairs on the back of his hand on my cheek. "Imagine losing this," I said more to myself. "Imagine losing us."

I looked up at him. "Don't break up with me." And my heart was back, hammering.

"Break up with you? Bella, breaking up is for people who aren't in love. We're in love. What I said… I didn't say it to hurt you or shock you. I said it because it's a fact. Can I imagine a life without you in it? No. But in order to have you in my life, you need to be _in_ my life. All the way in it. Not partially. Not even three-quarters, but fully, one hundred percent with me."

"I'm with you," I said. "One hundred percent."

"But that's not true. You haven't been. Don't you remember how pissed you were at me when you found out I'd kept my Stanford plans away from you?"

"I didn't want you to give up your dreams for me."

"And yet, by omission, you allowed me to watch you give up your dreams. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?" His voice cracked. "I can't believe that after everything we've been through, you felt like you couldn't tell me this." He turned for the door. "I need air. It's too fucking hot in here."

I ran in front of him, blocking him in the room.

"No, no, no. Don't you walk out on me again. I let you go earlier because I was stupid and guilty, but not this time." I knew that if he wanted to, he could easily lift me up and move me out of his way. "Please, Edward. Don't go. I made mistakes, and I've repeated some of them by not opening up to you, but don't go because of that." I shook my head. "Don't go." I patted his chest. "Stay," I said. "Here. With me. We can open a window."

I walked slowly toward the window, my eyes remaining on him in case he reached for the doorknob. "I won't keep you in the dark anymore." I pulled up the blinds revealing the black night. There was no moon. I opened the window, and the cool air entered, following me back to Edward. Goosebumps drifted up my arms but I wasn't cold. "I know I've said that before, but I _mean_ it this time. I've seen what it can do to you, and I never want you to feel that way again."

He stared down at me and I didn't take my eyes off his. I stepped closer.

"Please?"

His fingers came slowly to my cheek. "Are you really sure this time? Because it's tearing me down, Bella. My fucking heart is not this strong."

I brought my hand to his heart again--felt it pounding. "I don't want you to hurt. I hate that I've done that to you. The possibility of hurting you was the only reason I kept those thoughts from you. I know now that I've made it worse. I know I've really messed up… your trust in me. Let me fix it. Let me show you that I've learned from this. I'm so sorry, Edward." I kissed his chest, his pain. "I just wanted to know myself. I wanted to be sure of what I wanted before I burdened you with it. But I'm positive. I'll never do it again."

"I want to believe you."

"Do it. Believe me because I mean everything that I'm saying. I don't ever want to lose you, Edward. I can't. I'll do anything it takes. I'll tell you everything. Anything you want to know. You can believe me."

He rested his forehead against mine. "Bella," he whispered. "I don't think I have the strength to leave you… ever. But please don't take advantage of that."

"I won't." I brought my hands to his face and slowly, timidly reached up to kiss him--nervous that he'd pull away. His lips kissed back and I breathed easier. And then I hugged him. "You once told me that you promise to be the man I deserve, but you always have been. You've been more than I deserve. And now I promise you, Edward. I will be the woman who deserves you."

He shook his head. "You deserve me. We deserve each other," he said.

I tried to smile. "I hope you mean that because I wouldn't be able to breathe without you."

"I mean it." He wiped the tear that released itself from my right eye. "But we have some things to work on, don't we? I want to know you completely," he said. "And I sure as _hell_ don't want Caius to know you better than I do."

"You know me."

"Tell me what you want."

"I want to go to San Francisco State," I said without hesitating. "I want to study literature and I want to teach it. And Caius doesn't know any of that. He doesn't even know that I've decided to apply. Nobody knows but you, and now my mom."

He nodded. "A teacher?"

"Yeah."

"Perfect. How long have you known you wanted to teach Literature?"

I bit my lip and looked away.

"Bella?"

"I'm scared to tell you."

He held my hips. "Don't be scared. I'm not going to get mad."

"The whole time I've known you. Even before we met. It's just… I thought I could wait. I thought I'd be happy waiting for you."

"It's okay to change your mind. And if you change it again, that'll be fine too. You can tell me."

"I know that now and I will."

"I hope so."

"Edward, I love you so much that the thought of hurting you, the fact that I did--I can feel it in my chest and my throat. It scorches like the burn on my hand."

"I'm familiar with that feeling."

"You are?"

He nodded. "The night of the fight with Rosalie I felt that. You forgave me so easily. You've never brought it up since."

"Because when you apologized, I knew you meant it, Edward. Do you know I mean it, too?"

He nodded.

"See? I'm so far from perfect. I'm a well-masked mess."

"I love you anyway," he said.

I smiled and closed my eyes. "Thank you."

He kissed me.

"Bella?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Maybe you were right when you decided we should wait to get married."

I pulled away from him, my eyes widening. "I was?"

"I don't mean that I don't want to marry you, because I do. But look at us. We're still so clueless. Maybe marriage would have just been another added pressure on top of everything else."

I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn't know what to say.

"I don't regret anything," he said. "Not you or Masen being here. That's right. This is right. I just don't want to make any mistakes. It's too easy to make mistakes."

"Come here," I said, pulling his hand and leading him to the bed, where we sat down facing each other. "You're right. Mistakes are easy, and they will happen. It's part of being human. But maybe there's something we can do to… to deal with them. Some sort of understanding."

"Like what?"

"Like open communication. If either of us has anything on our mind, big or small, and we need to talk about it, the other has to take the time to listen. And I mean _really _listen."

"Sounds good," he said.

"And no more walking out. If you need to get away, that's fine, but no leaving without telling the other where you're going. Because one of these days, that could turn really bad. You know how they say that in war, the first kill is the hardest? And it gets easier after that? What if it's that way with leaving? What if the more used to it we grow, the easier it is to walk out on each other?" That thought made me shiver.

He took my hand and brought it to his lips. "No leaving," he said. "YWe're sure to make mistakes, but we'll have a strategy for dealing with them." He tilted my chin toward him. "Your lips, my love."'

"That's right," I said, kissing him. "I'm your love. And you're mine." I smiled against his lips and felt him smile back. "Are you okay?" I asked him.

"I'm better," he said, but he pulled back. "How's your hand?"

I looked down at my hurt hand in my lap. "Better too."

He began unwrapping the gauze. My palm was still red and swollen. He brought it to his lips.

"Your lips burn," I said, pulling my hand back.

"I'll get you new gauze," he said. I watched him leave the room, and then return with a glass of water, another pill, and after I took that, he rewrapped my hand.

"What a day," he said.

"I wouldn't want to relive it."

"I wish I'd stayed to take care of you when you were hurt."

I shook my head. "You're here, now," I said. "And you're not going anywhere, right?"

"Bella," he brushed a hand down my hair and held onto the ends. "You know I'm not."

* * *

**Please review. **


	41. Oceans

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

myimm0rtal has set up a _Not Without You_ discussion thread at Twillighted(dot)net

www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=7726&p=829227#p829227

**This isn't the end quite yet. This chapter grew too long, so I split it into two.

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 41: Oceans

Our room was dark when the alarm sounded at 5:00 AM. The sun would soon be on the rise, and I was hopeful that it would bring refreshed promise on its rays. Was the long night, its silence distilled only by the sounds of love--lips, soft moans, skin rubbing against skin--enough to lay yesterday's turbulence to rest? Would the sun let it lie, its beams smothering what we no longer wanted to think about or see, cautious in what it revealed, only awakening new vision to emulate a new day?

Edward was close to me; I could feel his skin against my back. I turned and reached over him, slapping at the alarm button. His arms came around me, pulling me snug on top of him. He smelled of minty soap and sweat, and the crook of his neck tasted like the ocean, and he was an ocean. As small as people appeared in comparison to the universe, in reality, we were as far reaching as the sea. The smallness of our bodies are deceiving and offer only the portion of us the eyes can see. Our flesh hides and holds the vastness of who we are and all we're capable of, our strengths and weaknesses, our accomplishments and our mistakes, our dreams and our fears, our ability to hurt and our ability to heal. And everyone whose lives we touch, we become a part of, and everyone who touches us becomes a part of us. And we are ever-growing.

"You're my ocean," I said into his skin.

"Don't go," he said. "Not yet." He kissed along my jaw, rolling us over, him on top of me, kissing down my throat to my chest. We were both still naked, dressed only by the bed coverings, and now, by each other.

"Edward…"

"I know. You have to get up. I'll stop." But he didn't stop, and his lips were at my stomach now, and my back was arching.

"Edward…"

"Okay, okay." He brought his face to mine. "It's just, you and your body." He groaned and rolled onto his back, his arm over his face. "I don't want to stop."

I moved his arm out of the way so I could see his eyes. "I can't be late. Pastries must be baked before 7:00." Although my mom was visiting, extra time off work wasn't possible for me. Spring Break was far too busy at the bed and breakfast for me to expect Mrs. Pollazzi to do all the work.

Edward nodded. Then he took my bandaged hand and kissed the back of it, holding his lips there. "No more burns."

I shook my head.

"And keep the gauze on to protect against infection."

"What are you going to do with my mom today?" I asked, and then laughed because I knew spending a day with my mom alone was not Edward's idea of a good time.

"Nice," he said. "Laugh. I'll probably take her around Palo Alto. Maybe we'll stop by Pollazzi's. If she sees where you work, she might have more respect for what you do."

"I don't think my work really bothers her. Her main concern was college, and that's been cleared up."

I started to get up, but he took my arm. "Be proud of who you are, Bella."

"I am. I feel... relieved that I've finally made a decision on college."

"Good."

"Get some rest before Masen gets up," I said. "I'll come say goodbye before I go."

His fingers tickled down my spine as I turned to get up again. "Masen loved listening to me play last night. I stopped to feed him, and then he pounded on the piano for me to play again." I turned to see Edward smiling proudly. "You should have seen him."

"I would have loved to have seen that, but I wasn't invited."

Edward's smile faded fast. He sat up. "You're hurt."

"I was. But I thought I deserved it. Until you were gone so long with Masen--then I was just mad. And when you came back and told me where you'd been, I couldn't be mad any longer. My actions had driven you to the piano. It's what I know you need most when you're hurt the deepest."

"Bella." He pulled me into a hug, his chest warm against mine. "I'd never keep Masen from you. I took him with me because I knew you couldn't take care of him then. He kept me level headed, too. Even though you weren't physically with us, you were there through Masen. I saw you in his smile and eyes. And that kept me from going to find out which room was Caius's."

"You would have done that?" I asked, pulling back.

He nodded, his arms loose around my waist, his hands at my back. "At the time, all I could think about was that somehow Caius was able to get you to open up when I couldn't, and he was giving you advice I would have wanted to give you. But the fact is, Masen _was_ there and he smiled while I played, the look in his eyes so much like yours. He kept my feet on the ground and kept me calm."

"And now what do you think of Caius?"

"I don't trust him, Bella. I'm sorry, I just don't. Will he be working with you today?"

"No. His shift starts after mine ends." I glanced over at the clock. I was running out of time. "I have to get in the shower. Let me go?"

Edward nodded.

I tried to open the closet door quietly to grab my towel, the way I did every morning before work--careful not to wake Masen. When I got to the bedroom door, I turned around.

"Edward, I trust Caius. Not like I trust you, but I don't think he wants anything but friendship from me."

"Okay."

The earliest morning glow had made its way to Edward, and I could see his eyes from where I stood. I recognized the slightest hint of pain in them, and I was reminded of our conversation the night before. Our strategy for dealing with problems. Maybe I shouldn't have said that about Caius until we had more time to discuss it, but it was too late for that. Hindsight does nothing for the present. And it was clear to me that the sun was not enough to dissolve our problems with the night. Last night was gone forever but its occurrences were a part of our world now, here to stay. It was naive of me to think the sun was powerful enough to make all that disappear. How could the sun discriminate anyway? If a new day could let the bad fade away, it would do the same to the good, and who would want to live like that?

"We'll talk about this when I get back," I said. "There's no Caius today. It's just me, Mrs. Pollazzi, and the guests."

Edward didn't go back to sleep. After I was showered, dressed, and ready to go, I kissed dreaming Masen goodbye. He sighed and brought his round fist to his mouth, his eyes remaining closed. Edward walked me to the backdoor. He held the door open for me, leaning against it, his head at a slant as he peered down at me.

"I love you, Bella. I just want you to hear that before you go." His finger caught the collar of my shirt and tugged me closer.

I smiled and hugged him, holding him tight. "I love you, too."

"Why did you call me your ocean?"

"Because you are. I could swim in you and never go anywhere else."

He laughed, pushed hair from my forehead, and kissed my hairline. "Swim in me? This is what I love about you. Your brain works like nobody else's. But in that case, you're my ocean too."

Mornings were still cold here, even with the sun. I'd pulled on knitted mittens and a coat, both of which would be too warm even to look at as afternoon came around. Before I left, I stopped in the courtyard to check on my grapevine. It was still all sticks, not even the bud of a leaf in sight. But I'd been caring for it just like the instructions told me to. I had hope that by late spring, grapes would begin to appear.

My old truck was slow to heat up. I had the vents on full blast, but they did nothing to warm me until I was a block away from work. I drove past splashes of color blooming all over Palo Alto, and the bed and breakfast was no exception. Tulips had opened between daffodils under the shade of tall calla lilies, which stood like guards in a row before the low porch fence. I removed a mitten and reached down to touch a tulip with the back of my finger--pet it as if it were a kitten. It was cool and stiff, and didn't feel nearly as delicate as it looked. There were flowers inside as well, cut from the garden and placed in crystal vases throughout the house. I didn't take the time to touch or smell them, but went straight to work on that morning's pastries, the ingredients and the recipe waiting for me in the kitchen. How early must Mrs. Pollazzi have had to arrive in order to prepare all of this before my shift started at 6:00?

Later, as I worked on Room 5, I couldn't help but talk to Mrs. Pollazzi about what had happened between Edward and me. All that had occurred the day before wouldn't leave my mind. I'd been so engulfed in reliving yesterday that my memories might have made their way into the finished pastries. Mrs. Pollazzi was sitting in the chair as I made the bed. I had insisted I didn't need her help, and she'd insisted on keeping me company. She sat with her hands in her dress pockets, listening and nodding her head intently.

"Answer a question for me, Isabella" she said. It seemed as though she was straining to project her voice across the room. I wondered if it hurt her throat. "Do you believe it's possible to get anywhere on this earth no matter how distant or remote?"

"I guess if you have the transportation and the money, you can get anywhere."

"There's just one more thing you need," she said, lifting a finger. "Desire. Think of your relationship in those terms. Even if you're on opposite ends of the world, there is always the possibility to find your way back to each other. Caius and his little girl, they didn't do it. Not because they couldn't, as he often explains it, but because they didn't want to. They lost hope and strength, and they mutually gave up. They lacked desire. And that's fine, I tell you. That was right for them. But you and your boy won't give up, will you? Neither one of you?"

"No, we wouldn't."

"Then dwelling on your troubles may cause you more strife than the troubles themselves. Leo and I had our moments, you can be sure of that. Oh my, the yelling we did, and oh! the things we said that we didn't mean--you wouldn't believe. And the tears that were shed." She shook her head. "_But_... we always came back to each other. We had our love. And sometimes, remembering your love is all it takes. You don't need money or an airplane… or a boat," she laughed. "All you need is that feeling. I'm sure you're familiar with it."

I paused where I was, dropping the pillow to the bed, and brought my bandaged hand to my heart. "Yes. I never want to lose this feeling."

"Take it from an old woman who lost her husband of fifty-two years. Feelings like ours don't go easily. Love isn't merely in your heart. No, that's a myth. Love runs as deep in you as your blood does. It flows from the tip of your nose to the tip of your toes--every crevice of your body. Take your fingertip, the unharmed hand." She smiled and I lifted my finger. "Now what happens when you apply pressure to it? What do you see?"

I pressed my thumb nail against my index finger. "It turned white."

"And when you release it?"

I let go and watched my finger go red again, redder than it had been before, and the dent I'd made rounded out, too. "The blood comes back."

"Just like true love, you see? You can cause it tension, stress, adversity, but after all is said and done, it's still there, holding strong. I believe love to be the last thing that leaves you when you die, long after your last breath."

I sat on the bed. The quilt was cool under my fingers. "What happened to Leo?"

She shifted in her chair, settling both hands back into her pockets as she gazed behind me, out the window on the wall across from her. I began to worry I'd crossed a line with my question when she finally spoke.

"Nearly five years ago-" she removed a hand from her pocket and pointed at the window "-right out back. He was on a stepladder, picking oranges from the tree, and he had a heart attack. His heart." Her fingers came to her lips and rested steady and still, as her lips moved beneath them. "Nobody was out there with him. I found him later. I thought he'd been gone an aw-awful long time just to grab a few oranges for lunch." She laughed again, her eyes downcast. But this laugh was different, as though she were fighting off a cry.

"He loved this place, gave his life to it, and as long as I'm alive, I'll keep it running for him. That old desk downstairs? I've kept notes from Leo in it. You know, 'I'm off to the market. Love, Leo.' Simple notes, and he always signed them as if I wouldn't have known whom they were from." She gave another quiet laugh. "I can still feel him here, and if anyone can understand that, you can."

I did understand what she meant. Perhaps I understood it more on that day than I would have on any other day. It was the reason she was here morning to night. Leo had been such a part of her that he remained in her after death, and she still sought his comfort. And here, in this business they'd built together, he continued to embrace her even though, in body, he was gone. Her eyes returned to mine. They sparkled. There wasn't sadness in them. I saw in her what I'd hoped to feel under the faint rays of the sun that morning, when instead I'd caught pain in Edward's eyes. Here in Room 5 with Mrs. Pollazzi, on the tail of her story, there was warmth, safety, and a new optimism. She had done the work I'd expected of the sun. Could I do the same?

I walked over to her. "Mrs. Pollazzi, do you mind if I hug you?"

She was slow to stand up, and when she did, she offered her arms to me, and her hug was firm, nothing frail about it. "You're a dear," she said, patting my back. "A real dear."

Edward came by with my mom and Masen just like he'd said he would. I was surprised to find them in the living room, not only smiling, but laughing. It seemed they both had finally let their guards down and were perhaps getting to know each other, their true selves. They brought sandwiches so that, after I gave my mom a tour, we could go to the park to share them. But before we left, I hunted down Mrs. Pollazzi to introduce her to my mom. She was sitting on the back patio resting in the sun--no need for even a light sweater anymore. I took her hand and brought her to the living room.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," my mother said, holding out her hand, her fingers long and reaching. The old woman enclosed my mom's hand in both of hers.

"The pleasure is mine," Mrs. Pollazzi said. "It's a rare occasion a person gets to meet the woman who's raised a jewel."

Edward put his arm around me, Masen leaned forward to hold my face and kiss me, which made me laugh, and my mom looked at me with pride in her eyes.

On the way to the park, my mom linked her arm through mine. "You've done well, Bella." She said to me the same words she used to say to herself whenever she was pleased with me as a child. _I'm doing well_, she used to say.

I looked at my mom, who was walking face forward. That didn't matter. She didn't have to be looking at me for me to recognize the mom I'd always known. She was back. In that moment, she was here with me. I knew that my early pregnancy and our disagreements would always be there between us, but the fact that every once in a while all of that pain could fade away, allowing us to experience a bit of our old, unscathed relationship, relaxed me. I smiled. Walking arm in arm with my mom, Edward bending over to hold Masen's hand in front of us, I felt more at ease with my mom than I could ever remember. The breeze on my face became childhood kisses from my mom. The same ones I now passed on to Masen. I closed my eyes and let my mom lead me for a little while.

I thought about where we were, the short walk to the park. This would be our life soon, no more campus living. There would be no arboretum close by, no free shuttle to take Masen and me where ever we wanted to go, whenever we wanted to go there. We'd be surrounded by homes and gardens, earth brown rooftops instead of red, homeowners watering their lawns, children playing on the sidewalks. And if we continued walking a few more blocks past the park, we'd be in the heart of downtown Palo Alto. Just a couple of miles away from campus, this would be a completely different way of living. _A better way_, I thought.

Edward and I rested in the grass after lunch while my mom pushed Masen in a baby swing. Masen was laughing and kicking his legs, making the swing go all crooked and shaky, which only made him laugh harder.

"Look how odd he is," Edward said, as he lay on his side, holding himself up on his forearm. I looked down at Edward. "Just like his mommy." He brought a hand to my knee and I took his fingers.

"Do you think things are working out for us? Do you think this is real? Or do you think this is one of those times where we have a nice moment to breathe only to have the rug pulled out from under us again?"

"If we have the rug pulled out from beneath us, we'll fall together." He grabbed me around my waist and pulled me on top of him. I screeched.

"Edward! My mom!"

"Shh." He lifted his head and looked over my shoulder. "All her attention is on Masen. Stop worrying, Bella, and kiss me."

I kissed him, my hands on his chest drifting toward his neck.

"Bella, in all seriousness, are you afraid things won't work out between us?" His eyes, made greener by the background of the grass, were intense on mine.

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I know we're working out, we are. I meant everything around us. But like you said, if we fall down, we'll fall together. We'll catch each other."

"We always have," he said, "and we always will. I'll catch you in my ocean." He laughed.

"No, you don't understand. You don't _have_ an ocean, you _are_ an ocean. Go ahead and laugh, but I'm serious." I rolled off of him onto my back, folding my arms across my chest, feigning anger.

"Okay, I'll stop laughing. What matters most is that if I'm an ocean, I'm your ocean." His fingers were soft on my face and he leaned down to kiss me, and my arms automatically unfolded, my hands coming to his shoulders.

"Now you've got it right," I said.

* * *

The first Monday after spring break, Edward was home early. I was in the kitchen preparing Masen's lunch of ham and fruit when Edward walked in. I was smiling to myself, remembering the way my mom had hugged me, arms clinging, hands clasped behind my back, before she left for the airport, and how she'd hugged Edward, too. She blinked back tears when Masen had brought his hand to her face, and she turned to kiss that hand and then his face.

"You're skipping class?" I asked Edward.

"Good to see you, too," he said, kissing my cheek. "Class was cancelled. The professor missed his return flight. I thought we could do something. You want to go somewhere?"

"Of course!" I placed some banana slices and chopped up ham on Masen's tray. "But what will we do with this thing, here?" I teased Masen and rubbed my nose against his. "I haven't showered yet, though. Can you watch him while I shower?"

"It would be a pleasure. Hi, Mase," Edward said, bringing his eyes inline with Masen's.

"Da-dy, da-da." Masen reached for Edward's face and grabbed at his eyelids with chubby, sloppy food fingers. Edward smiled, squeezing his eyes tight.

"Thanks, little guy. I need a napkin now."

I handed him one from the counter. "Gross," I said.

"You're telling me. You've never had squished banana in your eye." He wiped at his eyes.

He had barely finished cleaning his face when there was a knock at the back door.

"Are you expecting someone?" Edward asked.

I shook my head and went to answer it. Caius was on the other side with Riley in his arms.

"Bella, we're heading up to The Dish. You want to--"

Edward pulled the door open wider. "What's up?"

Caius took a slight step backward, his eyebrows raising in surprise. "Hey, Edward. Riley wanted to come play with Masen."

"Riley requested Masen? Didn't you just ask my fiancée to go somewhere with you?" He wrapped an arm around my shoulder without taking his eyes off Caius.

Caius let Riley down. "Go over to the bench, buddy," he said, pointing toward the courtyard.

"I wasn't supposed to be here, is that it?" Edward asked.

"That's not it--" I started before Edward interrupted.

"Bella, let Caius answer."

"Hey man," Caius said, "have some respect for Bella. She didn't mean--"

"What the fuck?" Edward let go of me, and I glanced over my shoulder at Masen. He was happily picking at his food, undisturbed. He was saying something to his ham, and I would have much rather been involved in _his_ conversation at that moment. "I _respect_ Bella. I can't say I believe the same about you. I asked a simple question."

"Look. I don't know what you're getting at. I was headed to The Dish and wondered if Bella and Masen were interested in a hike, but I guess I've got my answer."

"Oh yeah," Edward said, folding his arms across his chest. "I remember hearing about the first time you took her up there." He nodded his chin in the direction of the hills we'd be able to see if buildings weren't blocking our view. "Didn't Bella take off? Didn't she run away from you?"

"Edward," I said, taking his elbow, but he stood firm, not budging.

"Come on man, we're friends," said Caius.

"I don't know you," Edward said. "I can see you're using your son as an excuse to spend time with Bella, though."

Caius glanced at me before he turned to leave. In that flash, in under a second's time, I saw something in his eyes I'd never seen before. I didn't recognize that look.

"Wait up," Edward said, his voice calmer. He stuffed a hand into his pocket, pulled out his keys, and removed one key from the key ring. He held the key out for Caius. "Take this," he said. "I don't want it."

Caius opened his hand and Edward dropped the key to the room that held the only private piano he had access to.

"Edward, don't," I said.

"I don't _want_ it."

Caius raised his eyebrows at me in question.

"Take it," I told him.

He shoved it into his pocket and left without a backwards glance. Edward shut the door.

"Does he come over often?"

"No. That was the first time."

He nodded, but he was still tight lipped.

"What? You don't believe me?"

"I believe you, Bella. I trust _you_. I don't trust that guy." He pointed at the door as if Caius was still standing there.

"He's the reason I have a job."

"Still not enough reason for me to trust him. He comes over when he knows I'm not normally here and makes up a quick excuse, blaming his son?"

"Maybe you're misinterpreting him."

"Bella. He came over here for you, not Masen. He expected you to go with him, and if I hadn't been here, maybe you would have gone."

"What are you saying?"

His expression changed, his face relaxed. He held my shoulders. "Can I ask that you not go anywhere alone with him anymore? Aside from work. Can I ask that?"

"You don't trust me with him."

"No. " He shook his head. "No, that's not what I'm saying. Not at all. I trust you and I'm not forbidding you from hanging out with him. I'm asking if it's okay with you if I ask you not to, though. Do you see the difference? Fuck," he said, the word a whisper, and he brought a hand to his hair, shaking his head. "I know what I'm asking and maybe it's not fair to you because he's your friend." He shook his head again. "But I don't trust him. He makes my skin crawl, and I see the way he looks at you. Maybe you don't see it, but I do. I trust you without a doubt, Bella. But I don't trust Caius at all."

"What do you think is going to happen? I've been alone with him, Edward. He's never touched me." I thought about that statement. Was that true? He'd pulled me by the hand before, he'd guided me by my back, but Emmett had done all that, too, and Jasper.

Edward nodded at me, folding his lips inward, and taking a breath. His lips appeared again, wet, and his eyes never left mine. "Okay." He nodded again. "Okay."

I remembered what had happened with Kate. How uncomfortable I was with that whole situation. Edward had told me that if I wanted him to stay away from her, he would. And even though I'd said he didn't have to, he did. He never made any effort to get to know her. Certainly, I could do the same for him.

And he'd given up that key. That was the only thought I really needed to understand how much Edward did not trust, or like, Caius. He gave up the piano.

"Edward." I brought my hand to his face, giving him my touch to let him feel that I meant what I was about to say. "If you don't want me to, I won't spend any more time alone with him. I promise. And I'll tell him not to come over anymore."

His hand held mine against his face. "Thank you, Bella." He kissed my wrist. "And you understand it's not you I don't trust?"

"Yes, I know that."

He pulled me into his arms. "I'm sorry. I know he's your friend. I just can't handle him anymore."

We didn't go out that day. There was no where to go. At times, no matter how much surrounds you, there's still nothing you can think of to do. We ate lunch together and then played with Masen on the living room floor.

"Why did you give him back the key?" I asked, seated next to Edward, Masen in front of us stacking his blocks. He'd gotten better at building taller towers before knocking them down, his patience and attention span growing with every day. "You need the piano. That wasn't necessary. The piano doesn't belong to Caius."

"Bella, he may not _own_ the piano, but him living in that building is my only excuse for using it. I won't spend another day owing him a thing."

I nodded, adding a block to the top of Masen's tower. He pushed my hand away, wanting to do it himself.

"I'm sure Mrs. Pollazzi will let you play her piano," I said.

"Maybe," he said. "If no one else is around, then maybe." He leaned forward to kiss me. "Don't worry about me, Bella. I lived without a piano for months. I can do it again. You're letting go of a friend for me. I can let go of the piano."

I knew it wasn't the same thing, though. The piano was Edward's comfort. Caius wasn't mine. And the piano never made me feel threatened the way Caius had made Edward feel today. I felt the rug beneath me, rubbed my hand on it. Edward saw me. His hand came to my arm and stroked gently. "It's still there, love. Shaken a little, but not pulled out. It's still under us."

I looked up into his eyes. It no longer mattered that I hadn't recognized what was in that glance from Caius. I knew exactly what Edward's eyes held for me. It was the love that Mrs. Pollazzi had described to me a few days ago. I felt it penetrating from Edward to me through just a look. Was this how Mrs. Pollazzi still felt her husband? Was it this intense? I remembered the little notes she'd saved, her simple treasures. Did I have anything like that of Edward's that someday, long from now, I could look at and feel this feeling that was in me at this very moment, Edward's light touch still on my arm?

"Edward, will you do something for me?"

"Anything."

"That song you play for me on the piano? Will you try to write it down?"

His lips lifted into a soft smile. As small as that smile was, it still reached his eyes. "Yes, I will. Absolutely."

Blocks collapsed around us, and the sweetest laugh sounded from our son. He jumped up and down, clapping. We laughed with him.

Edward picked up a block. "Should we build another one?" he asked.

"No!" Masen said, and grabbed the block from Edward with both of his hands. He set it on the ground, then stacked another on top of it. The next block he picked up he showed to Edward, toddling the few steps over to him and holding it out.

"Dah," he said.

"No that's not a dog, Mase," Edward said. "That's a pig. Say pig."

"Dah," he said again, then placed it on top of his growing tower.

I laughed. "Can't we help?" I asked Masen, but he shook his head. He was insistent on doing it by himself, so Edward and I sat and watched until Masen thought it was tall enough and he knocked it down again.

* * *

**Review please. :)**


	42. Breath

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**A/N: **Well dear readers, here is the final chapter of _Not Without You_. It will be followed by an epilogue in Edward's point of view. This is the longest story I've ever completed, and the longest amount of time I've ever consecutively spent on one story. I thank you for taking this journey with me, your loyalty in sticking with the story, and your wonderful, sometimes passionate reviews. A lot of you really got me thinking about my story in a different light, one I hadn't thought of before. I appreciate that.

I have another Edward/Bella story I'll be posting shortly after this one is completed. If you're interested in checking out another of my AH Twilight stories, you may want to add me to author alert to be notified when the next story is posted.

* * *

Not Without You

Chapter 42: Breath

Edward and I spent the night holding each other. Neither of us was willing to let the other go. We held tight and firm, our chests rising and falling together, my head tucked into his shoulder, our legs tangled, my feet on his calves. Every bit of us seemed to be touching. Too hot for the comforter, only a light sheet covered our bodies. I didn't know what was on Edward's mind, but in mine floated thoughts and feelings of the love Mrs. Pollazzi had described, a love that didn't die although one was gone, a love that could be felt in every crevice of your body as she so described. Edward was that love for me, and I was clinging to him with those thoughts.

Edward had never been so reluctant to get out of bed as he was the next morning. The alarm sounded, calling for him, but he didn't move to shut it off and neither did I. The noise seemed to grow and become an annoying and permanent part of the room--a nuisance that would surely wake Masen, but still, Edward and I would not release each other to turn it off. I focused on the sound of his heartbeat instead of the blaring beeping. The light hair on his chest tickled at my ear. With a soft touch, I rubbed the other side of his chest. His fingers tangled down my hair until they reached skin and stopped at the bottom curve of my back.

"I love your heart," I said.

"What?"

"I love your heart," I said louder.

His arms tightened around me as he kissed my head. "I love all of you."

Emmett threw our bedroom door open and Edward quickly pulled the sheet up to my shoulders. Wearing only his sweats, his eyes drowsy and swollen, barely awake, Emmett stalked to Edward's side of the bed.

"Are you two deaf?" He pulled the cord out of the wall, the silence harsh and abrupt filled the room instantly, and then it was welcomed.

"Sorry," I said, my head still on Edward's chest.

"No you're not. You're thankful I came in here to do it for you." He shook his head. "I don't have to be up for another hour."

"I _am_ sorry it woke you up, Emmett. And thank you."

He didn't answer and continued walking.

"Don't be a slave to the clock," Edward said. "Take control of time. Don't let it control you."

Without turning around, Emmett lifted his arm and raised his middle finger. Edward laughed.

Still, being Emmett, he was unable to let that go. "I make my schedule; I'm in control of my own time. Except when assholes ignore their alarms." He left the room, leaving the door open.

"He's mad," I said.

"I didn't want to move," Edward said, shifting and lifting me so that my cheek was against his lips, his warm breath on my face.

"Neither did I."

"But now I have no idea how much time I have left to get ready for class."

"Did you look at the clock before Emmett pulled the plug?"

"No."

Masen's voice called to me, muffled and fussy from the other side of the room.

"I'll get him" I said, and kissed Edward's chest before climbing out of bed. Edward's hands grazed my body, his fingers as light as the sheet, until I was out of reach.

"Bella, wait!" Edward reached down to the floor and tossed me his shirt. "The door's wide open. Emmett could still be out there."

I pulled his shirt on, welcoming the scent of Edward, as I made my way to Masen, who also had his very own sweet scent. I kissed his head. "Did the loud noise wake you?"

Masen didn't answer; he just rested his head on my shoulder and closed his eyes. He'd grown so much bigger, his feet reaching my thighs now as I held him. I brought him heavy and sleeping back to bed, grabbing Edward's watch from the desk on my way and tossing it to Edward. He plucked it from the place where it had seemed to bury itself in the sheet, and sat up, positioning himself so he could hold me as I held Masen. Edward took Masen's foot, still small in his hand, and gave his son a kiss on his forehead. Masen was nearly in need of a haircut; it reached down to the bottom of his neck and over the tops of his ears. The blond had darkened to a sandy blond, and I expected it would continue to darken.

"Is it weird that we wouldn't move earlier, even to turn off the alarm?" I asked Edward.

His head tilted to rest on mine. "I don't know. Probably. But I liked it that I'd rather endure that screeching in the morning than let go of you to do anything about it."

I smiled up at him and he kissed my lips.

"I love your smile. You should never stop."

Masen squirmed against me, rubbed his face against my chest, turned his head, smacked his lips, and rested on me again, his breathing loud through his nose, almost a snore.

"I'm going to call Caius later," I said. "I'll tell him what we talked about."

"What if he tries to change your mind? Are you going to let him?"

"I'm not that weak, Edward. My mind is made up."

"I don't think you're weak at all. Just trusting. Very trusting."

"Is that bad?"

"No." He took my hand and kissed my fingers. "It's kind. But you just... you have to be careful about how much trust you give people. More people have let me down than haven't, and when you offer so much trust, you set yourself up to get hurt. I don't want to see you hurt."

I turned to my side, adjusting Masen between us so I could put a hand on Edward's chest. "Edward, you mean more to me than anybody. I won't let Caius talk me into or out of anything. I promise."

"You don't have to promise." His hand came to my jaw and he kissed me, then rested his forehead against mine, and when he spoke again his eyes remained closed, his voice a whisper. "I have to go."

"Okay."

I scooted myself and Masen down to the pillow and drifted off to sleep while Edward showered. I may have felt or may have dreamt Edward kissing my cheek before he left. When Masen woke me up later, the apartment was empty, and in between Masen's demands to eat, it was quiet enough to hear the murmur of the refrigerator.

I didn't get the chance to call Caius to tell him that he could no longer stop by. He was back that afternoon.

Before he knocked on my door, I'd taken Masen out to the square of grass in front of our apartment. I released his hand and let him explore, but watched closely, the street only a few feet away. I picked a white dandelion from the ground next to the tree. "Blow," I told Masen, and showed him how.

He put his lips right up to the flower as if kissing it and blew, but he just couldn't get the wind from his mouth strong enough to disperse the petals. I helped him the next time and he clapped and jumped, reaching, trying to catch the white parachutes floating away. We searched for more flowers but there were none left in our little patch of grass.

Masen had forgotten all about it and picked at the grass with both hands, throwing it high above his head and shouting, "Up, up," his lips smacking together loudly on the "p's". I smiled and watched him be the toddler that he was, trying to lock this memory away with the others--the ones I never wanted to forget.

After a messy lunch in the kitchen, I washed Masen off over the sink and laid my wide-mouthed yawning boy down to nap. Rubbing his back, I waited until he was relaxed enough in his crib to fall asleep. When I saw his fist move to his mouth and heard the suckling, I knew he was out. I picked up the toys in the living room, vacuumed, and cleaned the kitchen. If I hurried, I could squeeze in a shower before Masen woke up. I checked on him--still sleeping soundly, bunched up, his back rounded like a turtle in his crib, and then I rushed into the shower. In my rush, I hadn't noticed I forgot to bring a towel with me until I'd already slipped under the water stream. Once I was through, I had to step out of the shower dripping wet and run to my bedroom to grab a towel from the closet. As I reached the closet, movement caught my attention out the window.

My eyes shot to the right to see Caius looking in. He wasn't up close to the window. It appeared as though he may have been passing by, glanced over, but then didn't look away. I pulled the towel around myself, crossing the room to close the blinds. He was gone by the time I got to the window. I dressed as quickly as possible, my body still wet against my clothes. This feeling, this tightness made its way into my chest, and cool tingles crept up and down my wet arms, and over my scalp, the water turning icy, as memories flashed through my mind of that night in Port Angeles with Alice and Rosalie. I saw those men again, exiting their car and making their way through the dark toward us.

I shook my head at my own strange and sudden panic. This was just Caius, not some crazy men. Still, I jumped, my breath caught in my chest, when I heard a knock at the backdoor, even though there was no mistaking who it was.

I pulled the door open, unsurprised to find Caius standing there looking down at his feet or the ground where cement met the building.

"I just want to apologize," he said.

"You looked at me."

"I'm sorry. It was an accident. But I didn't see much, I swear."

"How could you not see much?! I was completely naked. You wouldn't look away."

His eyes met mine. "I would have, Bella. I-I meant to. But you're so beautiful. I couldn't. And then… I couldn't help but wonder… if you wanted me to look."

"What?!" My eyes narrowed. I wanted to slam the door on him.

He held a hand out to me as if telling me to wait. "Just... let me explain." He took a breath and adjusted his hat, turning it around backwards, no longer shadowing his face. His gray eyes were round and apologetic. "This isn't exactly the way I planned to bring this up, but I think we've had some-some moments together."

I blinked at him. How was this happening? The look on my face, whatever it was, seemed to make Caius close his eyes.

"Oh god," he mumbled under his breath.

"We haven't had one single moment. I love Edward. I would never share any _moment_ with anyone else."

"All right. All right." He held up his hands. "I'm sorry. I guess I was mistaken."

"You were. Stay away from my windows. If the blinds are open, it's to let the sun in, not an invitation to you or your eyes. Why were you outside my window anyway? What are you even doing here?"

His eyes widened in surprise. Surprise that he wasn't welcome here? "I said I was sorry." He gave a slow blink and deep breath, shoving his hands into the loose pockets of his shorts.

"Bella, I'm going to be completely honest with you. I came here to talk to you about my feelings, and when I passed by your room, I did glance in. I was hoping to see you to build up my nerve, but you have to believe me when I say that I had no idea you would be undressed. I wasn't even hoping for you to be undressed. I just wanted a quick look at you. That's it. And things don't have to get weird between us. Let me in for a minute. We can talk this out."

I didn't let him in, but I stood with the door open, waiting for him to talk.

"What if we have something? I think it's more than friendship, and I've thought that for a while now."

"What made you think that? I really, really wish you didn't think that." I covered my face with my hands.

He pulled my arms away.

"Hey, I'm not trying to cause you problems. Honest. But that time you ran away from me when we went up to The Dish, you felt guilty."

"I know," I said. "Because of Edward. I shouldn't have been there without Edward."

"I thought… maybe… maybe you had feelings for me and that's where your guilt came from. I tried to keep my distance. I tried to let it go. But the more I thought about you, feelings began to release in me. I started feeling it too. You're different from Andrea. You're so nice and innocent, driven... inquiring, and unsure. You're real. And then you came back. And you asked me for a job. I thought…" He shrugged. "Was I really wrong?"

"There are no feelings, Caius. There never were and there never will be. I'm sorry you got that impression, but I love Edward. He's my _one_. He's my fucking breath. Do you understand that? Nothing can jeopardize that. Not you or anyone else. I need my breath. I need _Edward_. What if he was here right now? After yesterday? Did you even think of that? You and I. We can't be friends anymore."

"We can be friends. Let's forget about this. I can let my feelings go. See? Gone." He swiped his hands through the air in front of him as if that was all it would take. Feelings magically and instantly changed. "We're friends. I like you. Not love, okay? Like."

"I can't."

"You're afraid something might happen."

"No, I'm not. Nothing will happen. You don't understand." I shook my head. "Caius, I'm sorry. It wouldn't be fair to you or Edward if we remained friends at this point."

He stared at me, his eyes darting between mine as if trying to come up with something else to say. I continued. He had to understand. I went on and on about my love for Edward, how deep it ran, how impossible loving anyone else would be, until tears pooled in his eyes. His wet eyes shocked me and I paused. Was he hurt that much? Were his feelings that strong for me?

He nodded, hanging his head like a rejected puppy. Then, as if I were that puppy's owner who had just kicked him, I kicked him some more.

"Caius, I don't think we should talk outside of work at all anymore. Not even for Riley and Masen to play."

His lowered head nodded again. "I fucked this up." He lifted his face, his eyes meeting mine. I hoped he understood. "Bella, I... you're my friend... I didn't mean anything by this. I mean, I meant something, but I didn't mean to..."

"You know what? I'm glad you told me. I think you did the right thing. Edward was right."

"What?"

"Caius, you have to go now. And you can't come back. You know that, right? You can't come back. Please say you understand that." Tears met my own eyes then, and they weren't for Caius. They were for Edward. I saw Caius's hand reach out to me just slightly, but he dropped it. He didn't try to touch me.

"Don't mistake my tears," I said. As painful as what I was about to say might have been for him to hear, I couldn't allow another misapprehension. "They're in my eyes because I'm thinking of Edward. I'm worried that what's happened here today might hurt him. And I don't want to do that. I never want to hurt him. Caius, maybe you will find someone who feels this way about you someday. I hope you do. But that person is _not_ me. You see this ring on my hand?" I raised my left hand. "I wear this for Edward, and it's never coming off."

"I get it," Caius said. "Bella, regardless of what you may think of me right now, and whatever Edward may have said about me, I respect you." He pointed at me, his finger lifting and dropping a few times as if to emphasize his words. "You've made your feelings clear. I was wrong. I'll have to live with that. But that isn't your fault. It's mine. I misread things and I took a chance on my feelings. You've been straight with me and I appreciate that." He shook his head. "I-I'm going to stay away. For you. I'm doing that for you, Bella. Okay? It's what you're asking of me and it's what I'll do." He paused. "I'm going now. I'm gone." He reached out to shake my hand. I gave him that much. "We had something unique for a while though, didn't we? I mean before this. Before today and yesterday."

I pulled my hand from his. "I used to think so." But what he said couldn't have been true. And he must have known that because the only way our friendship could have been unique in the way he meant was if he'd never developed feelings for me. But he had. So there was nothing unique about us.

He turned and left, and I closed the door behind him. I wafted into the living room like a draft sweeping from one room to the next. I was one of those dandelion parachutes, aimless in my movements. There was no floor beneath my bare feet, or ceiling above me, or walls surrounding me, and the room went dark except for the spotlight on me. Alone and naked again, I closed my eyes.

Opening them, returning to myself, I noticed the partially raised blinds in the living room. I felt watched. And not only from that window but from everywhere, every angle. I moved through the apartment tightening window coverings, including the ones in Emmett's room. When the apartment was safe and dark, Masen let me know he needed me by crying out, "Mama." I could tell from the projection of his voice that he was standing in his crib.

The backdoor slammed, and I took Masen with me to the kitchen to see Edward, but Emmett was there instead.

"Emmett."

"B? Why are you out of breath."

Was I? I inhaled deeply, trying to calm myself.

"What happened?" Emmett asked, stepping toward me.

"I can't talk about it until I talk to Edward."

He frowned at me. "Okay, I may not be Jasper, but I can see that something happened."

I shook my head.

"What would Jasper do?" Emmett asked, but I couldn't tell if the question was for me or if he was just wondering aloud.

"He'd irritate me by knowing what was wrong," I said. "This is something I really have to tell Edward first."

He tilted his head at me, squinting his eyes. "Do you need anything?"

Masen squirmed and pointed to the ground. "Da!" I let him down and he left the kitchen. I watched him head toward his toy basket in the living room.

"I know I gave you that get-out-of-babysitting-free card, but I wonder if you could take Masen for a walk while I talk to Edward?"

"No problem. Are you sure you're all right?"

I shook my head. "I'm not sure. I'm a poor judge of people, it turns out."

"What? I know I have no clue what's going on, and you don't want me asking, but you're smart, Bella. You _get_ people. Everyone, now and throughout history, has been fooled by another person at one time or another. You don't have to start questioning your judgement."

"Thanks, Emmett. Thank you. I needed to hear that."

I took the umbrella stroller out of the closet, unfolded it, changed Masen's diaper, then locked him in. "Uncle Emmett's going to take you out, kiddo." I tried to smile as I leaned in to give him repetitive kisses on his cheek. "And he's not going to give you any strange food. Hold on," I said, looking up at Emmett, then ran to the kitchen to pour Masen a cup of milk. I handed it to Emmett before they left. Emmett backed out of the apartment whistling, and the high-pitched sounds brought a smile to Masen's face.

Thoughts of Edward filled my mind as I waited for him. I knew what I had to tell him could possibly hurt him and would definitely make him angry. I didn't believe he'd be mad at me, but he'd absolutely be furious with Caius. I didn't want to upset Edward like that. I wanted to see him happy like he'd been that morning. I wanted to be able to tell him that I'd talked to Caius like I'd planned and everything worked out fine. But that wasn't the case.

I lifted my hand and ran a finger over my ring. The ring I'd worn for going on two years now. I saw the happiness that had come over Edward's face the night I accepted his proposal in the forest back in Forks, the sounds of the creek trickling beside us. He'd said he would wait until I was ready, but he wanted our engagement to be official. He'd been patient all this time like he promised he would be, waiting for me.

The few times he'd brought up marriage, he'd stopped himself, remembering his promise not to pressure me. But the last time he'd mentioned it, after Masen got sick and Edward had that difficult experience at the hospital, did I feel pressured? If he hadn't stopped himself that night in our bed, if I'd allowed myself more time to explore my thoughts**,** what would I have said? There hadn't been even a tinge or a spark or a fleck of doubt in me that night. And then last week, Edward had said we'd been right to wait. In our room, Edward's face right in front of mine, I'd felt something then in my chest. A burn. It was like I'd fallen and scraped the inside of my heart. And again, I hadn't allowed myself to explore those thoughts.

Now, waiting for Edward, I explored those thoughts.

My reasons for wanting to wait to get married weren't inside me anymore. I'd been waiting, for who knew how long, merely because I'd grown used to the idea. Just like you're used to your own skin. You don't feel it stretching over your bones. The only time you feel it is when you touch it.

When Edward finally arrived, it seemed like an eternity had passed, and all I could do was stand in the living room staring at him, the backs of my legs against the sofa. I'd never sat down. My love and want for him overflowed from me and flooded the room. I couldn't tell him that Caius had seen me naked. My mouth couldn't form the words, and even if it could, my voice wouldn't leave my chest. It was stuck there, blocked, like I'd swallowed wad after wad of bubble gum and it was sticky, thick and building against my insides.

"Bella? What are you doing? Why's it so dark in here?"

I swallowed, an attempt to push that bubble gum out of my way. I cleared my throat. "Um… something happened…"

"What? What happened?" He dropped his book bag to the floor and glanced around the room. "Where's Masen?"

"I asked Emmett to take him because I need to talk to you about what happened... with Caius."

"Caius? You talked to him about it?"

He took a few steps toward me, then stopped. "Bella? What's wrong?"

"You were right about him."

"About what?"

"He… he creeped me out."

"Bella, what-did-he-do?" His lips were tight as he spoke, his mouth barely moving.

"He misunderstood, I guess. He thought I had feelings for him. But I don't."

"Did he--Did he hit on you?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?" He turned around and brought his hands to his head, looking up at the ceiling. "Bella, you have to fucking tell me what went on. I'm losing it here." He still wasn't looking at me.

He seemed, from the back, to be taking deep breaths.

"Okay, Edward, he thought there was something between us. I told him he was wrong, and he seemed surprised, but he accepted it."

Edward faced me again. "Just like that?"

"Not exactly. Look, what I have to tell you isn't easy. You have to calm down or I can't say it."

He covered his face with both hands and rubbed roughly up and down. "You tell me something like that, and how can I fucking calm down?"

"But I really can't say it if you don't. So if you want to know, you have to calm yourself."

I took his hand and brought him to the sofa. He dropped into it, his head in his hands. "Bella. Just say it."

I sat next to him and pulled one of his hands from his face, linking our fingers, bringing it to my lap. "Edward, you trust me, don't you? Look at my eyes."

He turned, his left hand still covering one side of his face, and he looked at me with his one open eye. "You know I do."

"So, if you trust me, you have nothing to be this worked up about, so calm down." I rubbed his upper arm.

He let his other hand fall and he seemed to breathe easier. "You're right," he said. He brought the hand that had once been covering his face to my chin, his soft touch proof that he'd calmed. "Tell me."

"Obviously, Caius came over earlier. But I didn't know he was here at first. I was in the shower when he got here."

"And?"

"I was in a hurry, though, because I knew Masen wouldn't be asleep much longer, so I rushed into the shower, but I forgot my towel."

"So you had to go get a towel from our closet?"

I nodded. "And something caught my eye out the window."

He looked at me in question before I saw realization cross his face. He knew. "Don't say Caius. Don't fucking say Caius."

I didn't say anything.

"Oh fuck." He started to bring his hands to his face again.

"Don't." I reached for both of his hands to stop him. "Don't do that." He held my fingers.

"He didn't come in here, did he?"

"No."

"When he saw that you caught him looking, he left?"

"No. He wanted to talk about it. He thought I wanted him to look at me, that I felt what we had between us. I told him he had the wrong impression, and I wouldn't let him in. He got it in the end. He left and he's not coming back."

"Wrong impression? You're engaged. He's seen us together. We aren't known for hiding our love for each other. What other impression is there?"

I shook my head, still in disbelief myself.

"I'm going to find him." Edward stood up and I caught his wrist.

"I don't think you should. Nothing good could come of that. I think we should just let it go away."

"Fuck that!"

"Edward, _don't talk to me like that._"

He paused, taking a breath, and knelt down, his hands on my knees. "All right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, but Bella, he fucking watched you through the window. He called me his friend--yesterday! He's played with our son. And the fucker hit on you."

"And the fact that you're calling him a 'fucker' confirms that you're in no state to have a rational conversation with him."

"He doesn't _deserve_ a rational conversation."

"I understand how mad you must be right now. I've felt that way, remember?"

His eyes shot to mine.

"But I believe that he really misunderstood. I don't think he would deliberately try to hurt me."

"Bella," he scoffed. "Not only did he think he had a chance with an engaged mother, but he pursued it, and you believe he wouldn't hurt you? What the fuck is that right there? He's hurt you. Deliberately."

"I'll quit my job. I'll cut all communication with him. There's only a month left until he graduates. We'll never have to see him again. Just please don't do anything that could get you in trouble."

"No way, Bella. You're not quitting your job over this. You love it there. And he's fucking hearing from me."

"Not until you're calm."

"Tomorrow then. I'm talking to him tomorrow, and you're not going to stop me." He looked at me, his eyes doubting the truth in his statement. "If I agree to wait until tomorrow, please don't talk me out of it. Okay?"

"Tomorrow, if you can be rational, Edward, then I won't stop you."

At that moment, his expression changed completely. He appeared to just stop. His hands slid up my thighs to my hips.

"Are you okay? You said you were creeped out? Are you shaken up by this?"

"Well, I won't be leaving blinds open anymore. I've been checking and re-checking them since he left. But other than that, I'm fine."

"Come here, love." He brought me into his arms on the floor. He smoothed my still-damp hair off my forehead and kissed me.

"I had no idea he thought that way," I said. "If I had, I would have stopped hanging out with him long ago. He told me he wasn't looking for anything. Just friendship. I believed him."

"I know."

"But you knew, Edward. You were right."

"I know guys," he said. "Especially around beautiful girls. And you're not just any girl. Only an idiot would be blind to how special you are, and whatever Caius is, he's not an idiot. I'm sorry he couldn't be who you wanted him to be, Bella."

"Edward? You're apologizing?"

"He was your friend who turned out to be an ass. I'm sorry you were hurt in the process."

I thought back over the months I'd known Caius. I saw his smile. I saw Riley on his shoulders. If that day, way back when we first met, I'd let him walk away after he thought he'd freaked me out... if I'd never called him back, none of this would have happened. But also, I wouldn't have a job at the bed and breakfast. I'd have never met Mrs. Pollazzi. And maybe I wouldn't have opened my mind to the possibilities of college.

"It's okay," I said. "I'm fine." My eyes were level with Edward's, and I cupped his face with both my hands. "Edward, maybe you already know this, but just in case you don't, I have to tell you that I love you with _everything_ that I have. All of me."

He smiled, exhaling through his nose. "It doesn't matter if I already know that. I can never hear it enough." His lips met mine. "And that's just what I want, Bella. All of you."

When Emmett arrived with Masen, Edward and I were still on the floor, and Emmett glanced back and forth between us. He must have seen something that set him at ease--maybe our smiles--because he didn't ask either one of us what happened. We all went to the kitchen and cooked dinner together. Even Masen helped me stir the sauce until the pot got too hot. Every so often, Edward would give me random hugs and kisses, once holding me against his chest for a long while. Through it all, Emmett pretended not to notice. He'd asked me earlier what Jasper would have done, and I wanted to tell him right then that he was doing it. But I couldn't. I couldn't be the one to bring the subject up.

Emmett stuck his head into the refrigerator, searching for our last clove of garlic. Edward was holding me and I looked up at him. "Were you hurt by what happened today?" I whispered.

He frowned. "Did you go with Caius?"

"No."

"Are you here with me in my arms?"

"Yes."

"I'm not hurt. Our relationship has been tested over and over again, and we've made it through everything. I'm holding you because you're my ocean, Bella. And this is my way of swimming in you."

I laughed, and felt a tug on my pant leg, my attention pulled downward.

"Mama, dada, Mase," Masen said, a routine he'd recently taken to, naming us all repeatedly. "Mase-up." He held his arms up and Edward lifted him, and the three of us embraced each other, Edward kissing Masen's head and then mine.

"Say _love_," I said to Masen, but I wasn't surprised when he ignored my request. He rarely spoke on demand.

"Okay, family with all the love," Emmett said. "Here's the garlic**. **Let's get to cooking."

That night, neither Edward or I slept. I could tell by his breathing that he was as awake as I was. I listened to his breaths, those breaths I knew so well already and would lie next to every night of my life. I'd feel his breath next to my face when he spoke, and on my lips before he kissed me. And even though he wasn't touching me, I could feel the warmth of his body--the breath of his skin. That warmth was so familiar I was convinced I never slept as soundly as I did with him next to me. I knew something then. It was something I'd known for a long time, but something I wouldn't allow myself to ponder very deeply over until that afternoon.

"Edward?"

"Yeah?" He reached for my hand under the covers and linked our fingers.

"I think we should get married. I'm ready now."

"What?" His hand dropped mine and he sat up.

"I don't have reasons to wait anymore. They're gone." I reached for his hand. I wanted it back. He gave it to me.

"Is this because of what happened today? Because getting married won't stop assholes."

"No, not just about today. It's something I've known for months, and now I'm finally acknowledging it. The reasons I used to have for waiting no longer exist. We've been taking care of each other as a family all year. We'll be living in our own place soon. I think it's time. I'm ready."

He lay back down, pulling me to his chest. "I want you to be ready. There's nothing I want more. But it's the middle of the night. You haven't had any sleep. We'll talk about it again later."

"Fine, Edward, but I know how I feel. I know when I'm ready and I am. I wouldn't say it if I wasn't."

"We'll discuss it later." He kissed me. "Goodnight."

We lay there again, both of us quiet, our breathing steady, but neither of us sleeping again.

"Edward?" I brought my hand to his chest.

"Yes?" He laughed.

"It's just… when Caius was on the other side of the door, trying to convince me that I had feelings for him, I told him that was impossible. I told him that the only person I could ever possibly love was you, Edward. That without you, love would be non-existent. Without you, there would be no such thing as love. It would be a myth or a fairytale--but never real."

"You said that?"

"Yes. And I meant it so deeply that as I'm lying here remembering it, I'm thinking, what the fuck am I doing? If that's how I feel, and that's how you feel, what am I waiting for? Am I waiting for an angel to come down and tell me it's time? My feelings tell me that. You, and who you are, and who you've always been tell me that, Edward, and that's all I need. So marry me, damn it, and stop acting like I don't know what I'm saying!"

He stared at me, his eyes searching mine, but he didn't say anything.

"Unless... you still want to wait? Because you said-"

He stopped me with a kiss. And it wasn't one of those pecks he'd been giving me all evening. It was a real Edward kiss--the kind I felt in my toes. And when he ended the kiss, five, ten, or fifteen minutes later--because who could count when being kissed like that?--he said, "You just demanded we get married, and with curse words, Bella." He smiled and kissed me some more. "I can't say no to that."

"We're getting married?" I asked.

"And not three years from now."

"This year," I said. "This summer." I brought my lips to his, giving him a kiss that I hoped he felt in his toes. Better yet, in his toenails. "I'm sorry it took me so long," I said.

"It doesn't matter how long it took. What matters is that we made it. We're here." He hugged me and held me, and I was uncertain he would ever let me go, and I was fine remaining right there in his arms. "Bella, there's no way I'm getting any sleep tonight. Let's have champagne."

"Let me think…" I brought a finger to my lips. "I'm not nursing, Masen's sleeping, and we have something major to celebrate. I'd say that's a big yes."

Edward walked shirtless to the kitchen for the champagne, but came back with a six pack of beer instead.

"Champagne was gone. We get these." He capped a bottle and handed it to me.

"Wait," he said, moving the bottle from my mouth and replacing it with his lips. "We have to toast first," he said between kisses.

I pulled on his shoulder so he was closer to me. "I don't need a toast or a beer. Just you."

He let himself fall on top of me with a groan as we kissed. Our beers, being as full as they were, spilled over their necks and onto our bed, but we paid that no attention.

"Bella, we have all night for this. Let's just..." He kissed down my neck while his free hand lifted my shirt, his hand on my stomach, moving up toward my chest.

"Just what?" I asked, out of breath. His fingers were at my breast.

"Did I say something?" he asked, lips on my neck. I tilted back, lifting my chin.

"Edward, did you want to wait? Because if you don't stop what you're doing, there's no way I'm stopping you."

He licked up my neck to my ear, and pulled my earlobe into his mouth. "Okay," he whispered. "I'm stopping."

He sat up, still in a pant, and took my hand, pulling me up too. "You remember back in health class when we couldn't keep from touching? And how we had to be careful about making eye contact?"

I nodded. He must have seen me out of the corner of his eye because he wasn't looking at me.

"That's how I feel right now."

I tipped my bottle toward him. "To a million nights of never being able to avoid each other, no matter how hard we may try."

He smiled and tapped the neck of his bottle against mine. We drank beer until we couldn't resist each other any longer and we made love. The sun was coming up by that time, the lightest shade of tangerine silhouetted against the blinds and poked through cracks. Here came another dawn, bringing a new day, and with this day came definite promise. The promise of this day, I could feel in every sense. I could touch it when I touched Edward. I could hear it when he moaned at my touch and whispered his love. I could see it when I looked at him, his eyes closed, his lips parted, waiting for mine, waiting for more. And then I tasted it when I gave him my lips, and I wanted more too. We welcomed this change in the world and this change in our spirits, and we celebrated it until I imagined the sky was topaz blue and as clear as crystal.

Time would pass, the world would continue to change, and we'd change along with it. Masen would grow up, and we'd guide him through his own changes. But one thing that would remain was _us_. We were united, we were one, and that's how we'd stay. We knew of the challenges. We'd lived them, and we knew there were more to live. Through everything that was sure to come, we'd try not to end up on opposite ends of the Earth. Yet still, if that ever happened, I knew we'd always find our way back to each other because above all else, we had our love. And our love wasn't just in our hearts. It was our hearts; it was our blood; it was our breath.


	43. Epilogue

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

I have to thank you again, loyal readers. It's a bittersweet feeling for me to end this story--it's been a huge part of my life for just about a year, if not a little longer. I hope that I've done the story justice for you. I owe a huge thank you to myimm0rtal, my wonderful beta. She's done so much to help me and has been incredibly fast, typically getting each chapter back to me within a few hours. And I'm glad she's agreed to do the beta work for my next story, which I hope to start posting very soon. (As a warning, the upcoming story will be darker in subject matter.) I also owe another huge thank you to a friend of mine, Liz, who encouraged me to stop worrying and post _The Path We Chose. _

Also, I will be posting a link to a photo of Bella's dress on my profile, if you're interested in seeing it. Or maybe you want to keep the vision you have of it in your imagination. :)

* * *

Not Without You

Epilogue

**Edward's POV**

Through the mirror, Bella gazed back at me, though she wasn't in the room. My bowtie had brought to mind the color that I often caught burning her cheeks. It was pink and I was being forced to wear it. I gave it one last pull, then ran my hands a few times through my hair. It was too neat. Even now, narrowing in on seven years since we met, Bella preferred my hair to look as though I'd just rolled out of bed. While other men combed or gelled theirs, I messed mine up, just for her. And here I was, getting myself ready for the wedding, and all that tunneled through my mind was Bella. I laughed at my own reflection.

"What's so funny?" Bella's voice drifted to me from the doorway of the bathroom, my tuxedo jacket hanging from the door beside her. She leaned against it, folding her arms across her chest. "You look gorgeous."

"And you look mmm, tasty in my T-shirt, Mrs. Cullen, but don't you think it's time you put your dress on? We have to leave for the church in…" I glanced at my watch.

"Thirty-five minutes, Mr. Swan," she said with a smile, "and my dress is the last thing I'm putting on. If I put it on too soon, I know I'll rip it or spill something on it, or burn it like I did my veil."

I smiled back at her and pulled her toward me by the end of the shirt. I moved my hands beneath the fabric to the bottom of her smooth waist, that curve I loved where her waist met her hips, and I held on.

"Mommy?" Masen said, and she turned, her skin slipping through my fingers. Masen stood at the door in his slightly too big slacks, white shirt, and unlike mine, the bowtie around his collar was black. His voice had been unusually quiet and he had a baseball cap positioned low on his head, his head bowed.

"What's wrong, Masen?" she asked.

"You're going to get mad," he said.

Bella turned to look up at me, her eyes round, asking me for something, but I was unsure of what she needed.

"What's going on, little man?" I asked.

He shook his head.

Bella brought her hand to his chin and lifted his face. "Why is your hat like that? I can't see your eyes." She took off his hat, and then she gasped. "Masen! What did you do?"

He started crying, tears falling instantly, as if they'd been gathering and waiting to be set free, and they were followed by sobs.

Unable to see the problem, I leaned in for a closer look. There were blue pen marks scribbled over his eyebrows. He'd cut his eyebrows thin and it appeared he'd tried to draw them in.

Bella knelt down and took hold of Masen's face.

"Masen, stop crying. It's okay. Just tell me why you cut your eyebrows, and why of all days, on the day of the wedding?"

"I-I don't know…"

"How can you not know? You found the scissors and just thought your eyebrows needed a trim?"

"I don't know why." His words were loud and drawn out in cries, almost moans.

"Okay, Masen, I'm not mad. Are you mad, Edward?"

"No, I'm not mad, but you could have hurt yourself. You could have cut your skin, or stuck your eye. You're not to touch scissors without your mommy or me around, do you understand?"

Masen nodded, rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles, and sniffled. He took the hat from Bella and put it back on.

"You can't wear the hat to the wedding, Masen," Bella said. "You're the ring bearer. No hats."

"We could ask Uncle Emmett or Auntie Rosalie," Masen said. "Maybe she'll let me."

"We're not asking Rosalie if you can wear a hat to her wedding. That would be impolite." Bella lifted Masen to the counter, sat him down, and took a wash cloth from the cabinet behind her. She lathered it with soap, then started scrubbing the pen marks off his face.

"It's not that bad," she said. "They just look thinner, lighter. Nobody will notice, okay?"

Masen nodded, a sob moving through him like an aftershock.

"And you know what?" she continued, kissing Masen's tear-stained cheek. "You helped me prove something to Daddy."

"What's that?" I asked.

"If I'd been wearing my dress, I'd surely have water stains all over it by now."

I laughed, nodding my head, and I wouldn't have been surprised in the least if the universe had planned this entire eyebrow debacle, that Masen couldn't seem to explain, just so that Bella could prove herself right to me.

I picked Masen up, turning him so he could see his own reflection, his hair just a shade or two lighter than mine, his eyes red from crying.

"Look," I said. "People aren't going to be looking at you that closely. See? From this distance you can't even tell, can you?"

Masen shook his head and smiled, his smile exactly like Bella's, wide and pushing at his cheeks, reaching for his eyes.

I kissed the side of his head, his skin still so soft, his hair smelling of baby powder. I took a long breath in, letting his scent bring me back to the days when he was just a baby, laughing or crying, struggling to communicate, feet kicking like mad when he was happy or excited. I saw him in the early stages of learning the sign language that Bella and my mom first started teaching him, and then how he'd mastered it and used it with enthusiasm whenever he needed to tell us what he wanted. He was smart, our son. I knew that from the beginning.

"Go get your shoes," I said, letting him down. "It's time to go." He ran from the bathroom through our room, toward his.

Bella lowered her head and rested it against my chest, and my arms were automatic in their reach around her.

"Kids are weird," she said.

"Kids? Or our kid?"

She laughed. "He found the scissors, and instead of cutting his hair like most four-year-olds would have done, he cut his eyebrows. Okay, I get that, I guess, but then he took a pen and tried to color them in." She laughed harder.

"You know what he is?" Bella asked. "He isn't weird. He's creative. And pretty intelligent, too."

She was right about Masen. Shortly after we moved in here, he'd created a little sanctuary in his closet with a few pillows, blankets, a flashlight, some books, and his favorite stuffed animals. Sometimes we'd find him asleep in there, all curled up and uncaring that his back was lodged against the wall and his feet were hitting the closet door. This was the first time since he was a baby that he'd had his own room, and it seemed he revered his own space so much that he was driven to replicate it--a backup maybe, or maybe his appreciation taking active form. The minds of children are labyrinths--mysterious and more complex than adults credit them. Their thoughts, though non-linear and difficult to follow if you're not a child, are purposeful, coming from somewhere very concrete to them. Even if the child doesn't have the language or understanding to voice his thoughts, his actions can be illustrations of them if you look carefully enough. I learned that if I paid close enough attention to Masen's behavior, I could truly see him. He wasn't mine or Bella's; he was his own person, a definite little man. He possessed two rooms now, when for three years of his life, he'd had none. Bella and I provided him one; he provided himself the other.

:::::::::

We'd moved out of the bed and breakfast a month after graduation, but we remained in Palo Alto. Bella had a couple of years left at San Francisco State, and she'd fallen in love with this town enough to stay here, even if it meant continuing her commute to school.

We'd been happy and comfortable at the bed and breakfast, our first official apartment on our own. Mrs. Pollazzi, always so near, became like family. But with my being offered a full-time marketing and editorial position, though it offered entry level pay, we could afford a bigger place. Some of the boxes at our new apartment were still waiting to be unpacked. We had acquired so much more stuff over the past couple of years; there was a lot more to pack and unpack this time around.

Our move from the Stanford apartment to the bed and breakfast had been easy in comparison. I remembered Bella trying to carry the potted grapevine I'd given her that Christmas. She was stubborn with determination, but it was too heavy. She could barely lift the thing, slouching and bent trying to scoot it along with her. Leaves shook with every push she gave it.

She'd been more than delighted when it had first begun to leaf, and then ecstatic when she spotted the earliest sign of grapes. With the way she reacted, it seemed she'd witnessed a miracle. She spent days in the courtyard with Masen or with a book, glancing up from the pages every so often to look at her plant.

"Let me carry it," I said, laughing. "I'll put it right where you want it."

She had her hand on my back, pushing and guiding me through the apartment and out the backdoor to the exact spot she'd already picked out for it. Then, before anything else, she watered it.

Masen wanted to help move too, and we let him choose a few items out of the boxes we carried. With his toy squirrel tucked under one arm, he placed his other hand on the porch step to keep his balance as he worked at getting himself over that large step. So much like Bella, the little man refused help, and all Bella and I could do was smile and shake our heads at the determination that mirrored his mother's. When the last box was on the living room floor, I closed the door and Bella jumped on me. I loved when she did that, my arms enclosing her completely, my face finding its way into her hair--falling softly around me, encasing me in darkness, like a cave of feathers. I took in her clean, sweet scent.

She kissed my neck, her lips wet and warm, her tongue barely there. Within the brief instant of that kiss, she stirred desire in me, left me wanting more.

"We're home," she said.

"You smell so good. Like cupcakes."

She backed away from my neck and looked down at me, planting a kiss on my lips. "It's my vanilla bodywash. You like?"

"I love anything that involves you and the words body and wash." I gave her quick kisses up and down her neck, tickling her until she let out a squeal.

Masen laughed from below us.

I continued to hold Bella tightly, her legs wound around my waist. I didn't want to let her go. I could feel all of her. And not just her body, but her--the real her. Finally.

I knew that when we had first moved from Forks, she was slipping away. The changes were miniscule and hardly noticeable in the beginning, but I could see it happening, and I didn't know how to stop it--didn't know what she needed. The only reason she'd come to Stanford at all was for me, and I was in a constant and consuming awareness of that. The words of Bella's mother on that night we revealed the pregnancy--how the expectations of a mother would force Bella to give up more of her life than I would ever have to give up--rang through me all too often. I tried whatever I could to keep Bella happy, fulfilled, or even content, but what I had to offer alone wasn't enough. Over time she grew thinner, paler, shadows beginning beneath her eyes. She chalked these changes up to exhaustion, chasing Masen around, but that wasn't exactly it. She felt alone, the only one of us who wasn't doing something for herself. I didn't recognize this as the problem, though, just like I didn't recognize what a mistake it had been to tell her I would give up anything for her, including Stanford. As true as that was, voicing it had only made her feel as though she couldn't be open with me. She was afraid I'd turn away from my own dreams to make her happy.

We'd dug ourselves a hole back in Forks and climbed in when we made promises and decisions regarding our future. We were inexperienced with independence and couldn't have known how perspectives change when actually living the life that was once idealized as perfect. We'd made promises that couldn't have been kept, nor should they have been expected to be kept.

When Bella took the job opportunity at the bed and breakfast, much of her spirit was back. I saw that familiar smile in her eyes again--remaining there even when her lips weren't smiling. Her joking and sarcasm were also more apparent and more frequent--her playful side that first wrapped me around her finger. But once she decided to enroll in college, she was completely Bella again, and I couldn't have been more grateful. Shortly following her college decision, she told me she was ready to get married.

All she'd needed was to feel as though she were headed somewhere, a part of her own life as well as a part of mine and Masen's. I knew now that what she needed was nothing I could have given her; it was something she needed to do for herself. Instead of being immersed in me, she had to indulge her own desires, and then bring them with her, blending with me, like moss twisting around the trunk of a tree, separate entities becoming one. And now, I held her in our new apartment, her life, her sense of self, separate but as intertwined with mine as her legs were around my body.

One thing was still different, though. She couldn't have any of the blinds open if she was home alone. Not even in the back. Caius had done that to her, but he was gone.

I'd paid him a visit, of course. He answered his door, Riley at his heels, and Caius didn't appear the least bit surprised to see me standing in the hall. In fact, he'd seemed more in shock to see me at my own apartment a few days earlier. He opened the door wide, folded his arms across his chest and told me to hit him. He could take it, he said.

And I wanted to, my fist ready. What he'd done to Bella, the position he'd put her in, was right there behind my eyes, but in front of my eyes, looking up at me, was Riley.

"I'm not going to hit you in front of your son." There was no way I could bring myself to do it.

He gave a single nod. "I apologized to Bella," he said. "I told her she didn't have to worry about me, and she doesn't. But I didn't do anything you wouldn't have done in the same position. You know it, too. We're talking about Bella here."

My fist tightened--it lifted. I wanted to connect with his face--had to do something, so I grabbed his shoulder.

"I don't need to be reminded of who we're talking about. We're talking about _my_ fiancée, not yours. What you did hurt Bella. You may have only been rejected, probably what you expected, but she lost a friend." I shook my head. "You misled her. You had her believing all you wanted was her friendship. She trusted you. I've never understood why, but she did."

It seemed he had nothing else to say or do but stare at me. I glanced down at Riley and let go of his father, unaware until then of how tight my grip had been. I patted Riley's head, his hair as white as a cotton ball, just like his dad's.

"You're a good boy, Riley. You stay that way." He smiled up at me, and before I turned to leave, I quieted my voice, but kept it firm, demanding that Caius stay away from my family.

"Edward," Caius called, but I didn't turn around. "I lost a friend, too. And I don't blame anyone but myself."

That stopped me. I spun. "Is that the bullshit you fed her?" I paused, glancing at Riley, hearing Bella chastise me in the back of my mind for cursing in front of the kid. That brought a smirk out of me, something I hoped didn't look like a smile, didn't make me look nervous or weak. "The only thing you blame yourself for is exposing feelings that Bella didn't return. If you hadn't told her, she'd still be your trusting friend, and you'd still think you had a chance--still be taking advantage of that."

"Look man, the better man won, okay? She never faltered you for a second. You're the lucky one; I'm the pathetic one. She couldn't have made that any fucking clearer. What's done is fucking done. And another thing that's done? I quit the B and B. I promised Bella I'd stay away from her, and I intend to keep that promise."

"You quit?"

"Yep."

"You quit your job?"

"I did."

I took off then, baffled, my hands inching into the pockets of my jeans, my eyes on the cement. Who the fuck _was_ Caius? After everything he'd done, he'd respected Bella enough to keep away when she asked him to. He'd quit his job and said he'd never come around again. Whoever he was, at least he had that respect for her.

:::::::::

"Edward?" Bella's hand came to rest on mine, my fingers pausing over the piano. My parents had the piano shipped to me as a graduation present. It probably would have cost less to have purchased a new one, but this one was a family heirloom; a price could never be attached to that. Anyway, money wasn't the struggle it used to be for my parents now that my dad was getting a surgeon's salary. Even with the loans that needed paying down, they were less money-conscious than I'd ever known them to be.

I'd sat down to play the piano while Bella went to get dressed--the very last thing she'd do before we left, just as she'd said. Her voice came quiet beside me, and with her light touch on the back of my hand, the melody stopped not only in the room, but in my mind. "I hate to interrupt your playing, but it's time to go. I'm ready."

I turned around on the bench to look at her. I was silent, as I always was after playing--taking a moment to find my way back into my own body.

"What do you think?" She laughed. She hated that dress. If she had her way, she'd wear jeans and a T-shirt to the wedding, and Masen would undoubtedly wear his baseball cap. But the vision in front of me, her dress the same color as her cheeks, that smile on her face, had me frozen. She was more beautiful than any piece I could ever play on the piano. The way her dress seemed to hold her at her waist and hips almost made me jealous. I wanted to tear it off her and hold her there myself.

"Edward?"

My eyes met hers; she was waiting for me to say something. What was it? This was a moment when every man knows he must choose his words carefully. While she was always Bella to me no matter what she wore, she was radiance in this moment, the definition of it. But I also knew she was uncomfortable dressed this way. "Bella, you, you're…"

"I know. It's awful. And strapless. I'm going to have to be adjusting it all night." She pinched the dress at her sides beneath her arms and lifted it up, her breasts rising with the movement. If she kept doing that all night, I'd have to be careful about looking at her. It was hard enough keeping my hands off her without temptations like that. "But it's only one night," she said. "I can live with it for Rosalie."

"Bella, you look fucking amazing." My eyes found hers again, the brown in them appearing lighter, and her smile had me melting. "Amazing as always."

She blushed, and seeing that again had me hoping she'd never stop blushing for me. I reached up and touched her cheek with my thumb. "Amazing."

"Really?" She did a little bounce on her toes, still bare. "Better than on _our_ wedding day? Because you had that same look on your face then, too. I can't tell if there's a difference."

I felt one corner of my mouth lift into what she'd call my half-smile. "It's not a competition. And when did my face look this way? When I snuck in to see you before the wedding? Or when I watched you come down the aisle? Or after, when I took your dress off for you?"

"All those times," she said, swatting her finger at my tie. I took her hand and kissed it. "You completely cheated when you came to see me before the wedding," she said, shaking her head. "Tsk, tsk, tsk."

"But you're glad I did, aren't you?"

She nodded, a far away look glazing her eyes. I wondered what she was remembering. Was she remembering my knock on the bridal suite door?

:::::::::

I hadn't known it was called a bridal suite when I knocked on the old wooden door. Before Bella called it that, I thought it was just any other rustic room at that Quileute Resort. It had been Bella's decision to get married on First Beach. No desire for a big, fancy wedding, all she wanted were close friends and family at a place that meant something to the both of us. _It's where we spent our first honeymoon_, she'd explained. _It's perfect for our wedding_.

I agreed.

"You're not supposed to come to the bridal suite, Edward," she said through the door. "How did you get past The Warden?"

"Bella, open the door." I glanced behind me because Bella was right. I needed to get in there before Alice caught me. Typically, little-bit-Alice was not a scary girl, but her insistence that Bella's wedding be nothing less than

perfection had morphed her into someone else entirely. Alice had gone as far as refusing Jasper's touch. She wouldn't let him put his arms around her for the last two days because, as she put it, the moment she relaxed, something would go terribly wrong. We were all calling her The Warden behind her back, Bella the only one nervy enough to say it to her face. Rosalie said that being the bride gave Bella that nerve.

"You're not supposed to see me," Bella said.

"Since when do we ever do what's _supposed_ to be done? Are you dressed?"

"Only in my slip."

"Then let me in. I won't see you in your gown."

She opened the door slightly, showing me one of her liquid brown eyes. I kissed her eyelid. "Let me in," I said in a whisper.

She backed away from the door, and I pushed myself through. I didn't yet notice that the entire room was made up of wood--the floor, the walls, the ceiling. I didn't yet notice how fragile the window looked centered between all that thick, strong wood. Even the bed was huge and heavy, appearing raw and unsanded. A person could catch a splinter if he wasn't careful, and if anyone would do that, it would be Bella. But I didn't notice any of that yet, because my sight was strictly focused on Bella.

"Why are you here?" she whispered, trying to hide her smile. Her hair hung in waves over her shoulders, hiding the straps of her slip--lace along the edges, just calling for me to touch it. I reached out and ran a finger down her chest, following the lace. I let my hand fall in a line down her middle and across her stomach to her waist, and then I couldn't let go.

"To see you," I whispered back. "Everyone's going to want to monopolize your time later, and I just want some alone time with my very beautiful bride. Also, I have a wedding gift for you." I pulled the box out from behind my back and handed it to her. It was the size of a shirt box that I wrapped myself in light blue paper and tied with a white ribbon. She didn't take it. Instead she covered her mouth, her eyes going wide.

"A gift?" she said behind her hand. "We're supposed to give each other gifts? I don't have anything for you."

"You're all I need, love. Don't worry, anyway, it's not much. Open it."

She took it in both her hands, set it on the bed, and pulled the ribbon free. Her movements were too slow. I wanted to do it for her, but I held back, forced myself to be patient. I put a hand on the back of her arm so I could at least touch her while I waited.

She finally lifted the lid and pulled out the crisp, smooth sheets of paper, and she stared at it, her eyes widening in recognition.

"My song." Her voice was a breath, but I heard the words as clear as I saw the smile on her lips.

"Your song," I said. "You asked me to write it down for you. I had to use piano theory and composition books to do it. I studied them when you had class."

"Edward." She stared at me. "You said this wasn't much? This is-this is the best gift you could have ever given me. Aside from Masen. And yourself."

I smiled. "Is that your only gift? What else is in there?"

"A CD?" She lifted it. Had there been a CD player in the room I would have asked her to play it.

"It's me. Playing your song. My mom helped me recored it when we got back to Forks." Luckily brides are a busy lot, so I could perfect the song and the recording.

She set the box on the bed, and the music sheets and CD on top of the box, without taking her eyes from me. Then she slipped her fingers through mine, led me to the bed, put her hands on my shoulders, and pushed me until I sat. She climbed into my lap, held me around my neck, and rested her head on my shoulder.

"You are…" she said. "You are… there are no words to describe what you are. You're Edward, that's all there is to it. You're my Edward."

I brought my arms around her silky waist, and up her bare back. "I'm glad you like it, Bella." My voice was deep and quiet. "My Bella."

"I _love_ it."

There was a knock at the door, and Bella leapt from my lap as if her dad had just walked in on us naked. Her warmth went with her. She brought a finger to her lips and tugged on my arm. As she pushed me into the closet, whiteness caught my eye and Bella took my face, pulling my gaze back to her.

"Do _not_ look at the dress. And not a word," she said, then kissed me. When she pulled away, I reached for her. I wanted more, and as I expected, she gave it to me. We kissed until the knock sounded again, and Bella stepped out, throwing the closet door shut.

"Bella!" It was Alice's voice, growing louder as she spoke. She was in the room now. "Bella, tell me you've talked to Edward. Did he call you?"

"What?"

"Have you heard from Edward? Because nobody knows where he is. Nobody's seen him. Not his dad or Emmett or Jasper. Where could he be? Do you think something happened to him? He wouldn't have stopped somewhere, would he?"

"Alice, Alice," Bella said. "Calm down. Everything's fine. Edward's… here… somewhere. I talked to him, not even five minutes ago. Probably two minutes ago. Right before you knocked on the door I was talking to him."

"Well, where is he? The guys need to get to the beach now."

"He's here, just... you know what? Go tell Jasper he's here and by that time, I'm sure Edward will turn up."

I listened from the closet to Bella trying not to lie while lying, and I attempted not to laugh.

"Edward, you have to go." Bella opened the closet door. "You have to show yourself before The Warden finds out you've been here."

"Okay," I said and touched her face, her skin as soft as her slip. "The next time I see you, we'll be getting married."

"I'll be the one in the veil."

I kissed her once more before making my way to the door.

"Edward? In case I forget to tell you later, you look really handsome. The best looking groom ever."

"Bella, there's no way I'll forget to tell you, but you're breathtaking."

:::::::::

I told her that again as we left for Rosalie and Emmett's wedding. Her shoes hung from two fingers as we walked toward the car, Masen following alongside Bella.

She took my hand and kissed it. "Keep breathing. We're going to be late."

I opened the car door for her, and she strapped Masen into his seat.

"Where's my flower?" Masen asked. The promise of a flower on his lapel like "the big boys" had been Bella's way of putting a stop to Masen's whining about having to wear a tuxedo jacket.

"I'll pin one to you at the church, Masen."

"No!"

"What do you mean, no? Stick your arm though here." She guided his arm through the seat strap. "I thought you wanted a flower."

"No pinning me."

Bella laughed. "I won't pin _you, _silly boy. I'll pin the jacket. The pin won't touch you, okay?"

Palo Alto in July was full of color. It reminded me of music. The piano keys my fingers so often grazed may have been black and ivory, but the melody that came from them was every color in between. Pianists, I assumed, typically saw music notes when they played, but in my mind, I saw color. Each color to me held a different tune--that was how I remembered songs as a kid, by envisioning the notes as colors--and I heard these notes everywhere I looked as we drove to the wedding.

The church wedding was formal, the atmosphere stiff and silent, coughs and clearing throats all that could be heard. It felt exactly like Emmett's and Rosalie's parents, but nothing like Emmett or Rosalie. Nor was it anything like our wedding had been.

:::::::::

Our wedding hadn't been quiet. It was loud with waves and sporadic winds. The floor wasn't lain with smooth carpet; it was sand, sometimes lifting in the wind, and difficult to walk through. There were no golden oak walls surrounding us. Only a white tent attached to metal legs stood over our heads, sheltering us from any rain that might fall.

I never counted, but there were maybe just over forty guests at our wedding, seated in folding chairs facing me as I stood alongside Jasper and Emmett, awaiting my bride. I glanced over at Bella's mom, Masen on her lap, and I winked at him. He saw me and smiled, his fisted hands bouncing up and down and then reaching for me with open, outstretched fingers. Renee leaned down, whispering something to him. He stilled. Renee had settled in between Phil and Sue, who had left a free chair open on her right for Charlie. My mom was on the other side of the aisle, already dabbing at her eyes, her arm tucked in my father's. He was sitting up straight and smiling proudly at me. My grandfather sat stiffly beside him, still unhappy with the venue, no doubt. He'd needed his cane and the help of my father as he grumbled complaints, trudging over the sand.

I returned my parents' smiles, and my dad gave me a nod. I glanced between Masen, my dad, and my grandfather--four generations of Cullen men right here. One just a boy, a baby.

I was looking forward to watching Masen grow, being there for him in a way my dad couldn't be there for me. I loved my father, looked up to him, strived to be like him, but there were experiences I missed out on in childhood that I could never get back, due to limited funds and the demanding schedule of a medical student. My parents couldn't afford things like Little League, family vacations, or even piano lessons. I never asked for those things either, having learned at an early age about money and what it did or didn't do for us. But what they gave me, money couldn't give, and that was their unquestionable, unconditional support. They'd taken Bella in when I was desperate for it--moved money around from savings accounts, cut back on their own spending to afford another mouth to feed, and then a third when Masen was born. I really had no right to expect more from them. They'd given me more than any conscientious kid could ask for. Still, that didn't stop me from wanting a fuller life for my son and my family, and at the top of my priorities was my time. I was eager for the day I would show Masen the proper way to hold a bat or grip a baseball, watch him grow into a better ball player than I ever had the chance to become; to help Masen explore and discover his own talents and feed those talents until they were satiated, if ever they could be; to plan family vacations, see the world together, each of us trading off choosing a destination each year.

I remembered, as my mom dabbed again at her eyes, witnessing similar tears when she would listen to me play the piano. But those tears had been different. Those tears were shed because of what she couldn't give me. I cut back on my piano playing by the age of ten, pretending I'd lost interest, only playing late at night or on special occasions when my mother asked me to play. It was only a few years later when I decided I'd do something practical with my education. Piano, the way I saw it, would be a risk, and wouldn't bring the security I hoped for. I had an ear for piano, but my playing wasn't flawless. While most listeners might not pick up on my mistakes, someone more musically inclined would notice them, no doubt. I couldn't make something of myself in music without proper training. And Bella would never cry over something she couldn't offer Masen. Not if I could help it.

Alice was first down the aisle, smiling and finally relaxed, followed by Rosalie--both of them in short dresses of muted blue, slightly darker than the sky. Alice had called them chiffon in her rushed, breathless description days earlier, but I didn't care. I looked over their heads in search of Bella. And there she was.

The music changed; people stood. On her father's arm she walked, or seemed to glide, toward me. I wanted to move, meet her halfway, because suddenly the aisle was miles long. Her dress shone in the sun, silk straps over her shoulders leading into a V, and clear beads glistened under her breasts like a jewel or a medallion. Silk flowed smooth and straight from the beads just above her waist like a stream of vanilla cream pouring into the sand. The dress moved with her as she walked, as if it were a part, anticipating her every step, giving way generously to her movement. Her hair, while earlier had hung loose, now had white ribbons twisting through the sides to the back, releasing a veil that fell around her shoulders, just slightly longer than her hair. Nothing covered her face; her eyes clearly--even from this distance--were locked on mine. She was a goddess risen from the sand, certainly too good for any human.

The breeze blew some free strands of hair into her face. She lifted her hand, along with her bouquet, to push it aside. I hadn't noticed the flowers before that moment. I saw that her bouquet consisted of the same flowers I'd given her the night I proposed. Every color you could imagine, she held in her hand. I could have played a song to the tune of her bouquet, and hardly hit the same note twice. On her wrist was the bracelet I'd made for my mom as a kid. Around her neck was the opal I'd given her one Christmas. On her left hand was my ring. Every piece of jewelry she owned, she was wearing, and I had given her.

She stood before me and my eyes were nowhere but in a world of Bella. Her father kissed her cheek, gave me her hand, and told me to take care of her.

"I will," I answered, though looking at Bella, making my promise to her instead of her father who'd asked it of me. Bella was all there was.

She smiled, her eyes clear and wet. "Hi," she said, blinking quickly, attempting to keep her tears from falling.

"Hi." I couldn't stop myself from wiping her spilled tear with my thumb. Bella's smile grew and tears fell in streaks down her face with her next blink.

I shook my head at her. I'd only made it worse for her by wiping away that first tear. She was trying so hard not to cry. I squeezed her hand, pulling her closer.

"It's us," I whispered. "It's our day, love."

She nodded, and I took her bouquet, handing it to Rosalie as Bella wiped her own tears. No more came. I hadn't glanced away from Bella, didn't know if Rosalie was crying too, but just before her own wedding, she cried.

:::::::::

Bella rushed out of the bride's chambers, a blur of pink coming toward me. "Rose is asking for you. She keeps breaking down in tears. They come and go, but she won't tell us why."

I stared down at her, uncertain of myself. I'd promised her that I'd never put Rosalie before her, and I wasn't sure where that line had to be drawn. "Are you sure you and Alice can't help her? Should I get Emmett?"

"She doesn't want Emmett to see her yet. Alice and I have tried everything, but she's not talking. She just wipes her face, smiles and pretends nothing's wrong, until the next time it happens. She needs you. What are you waiting for? Go see what she wants." She pushed against my arm and I nodded.

Rosalie was seated in a corner of the large room, and her crying was silent. In her dress, she seemed too big for the chair, white material spilling over and down all sides, covering the chair like the quick foam of root beer overflowing from a glass. Her shoulders weren't shaking, there were no sobs, only tears as she looked at me. She stood up, smoothing her dress. I spotted a box of tissues on a table, pulled some from it and handed them to her. She blotted at her face.

"I've ruined my makeup."

"Rose, why are you crying? This is a good day."

She nodded. "I know. I know. It's more than good." She nodded again.

"Then what's wrong?"

"I've been okay," she said. "I haven't had memories of the accident for a really long time, but today…"

"Irina?"

"It's like I can feel her even though she's not here. She should be, but she's not. I keep expecting to turn around and see her standing there."

"What can I do?"

"First of all," she sniffled, "please don't tell anyone what brought this on. I'll get control of it. I know I will, and I don't want my emotions hanging over the wedding. I don't want the moods of the guests or Alice and Bella to change."

"That makes sense. I won't say anything." I knew that wasn't completely true. If Bella asked me, I'd tell her. I only hoped she wouldn't ask, if she didn't already understand what Rosalie was upset about. I had the feeling she already knew. And Alice, too. "But what do you need?"

"I want to ask you to do something for me. I brought something." She walked to the table that held the tissues, and picked up her bouquet of white roses. I saw her slip something out from between a few flowers. "I-I thought I could carry it with me in my bouquet, but I can't do that. She's already too present in me." She held her hand out, a picture of herself and Irina between her fingers. Rosalie was so young in the picture, mud on the knees of her jeans, her hair wild and unclean. I thought she'd rid herself of all proof of her tomboy days. Irina in the picture, a teenager, was as I most remembered her. She had an arm over her younger sister and was peering down at her as they stood in the shade of a fir tree. "Will you carry it for me?"

"Of course." I took the picture and placed it in my inner jacket pocket. "Is that all?"

"Yes, and thanks for coming, Edward."

"It's fine, Rose. Just, be happy. This is your wedding day. Don't let anything overshadow that. Not even Irina. If she were here, she wouldn't want that. This day is all about you and Emmett."

She nodded. "Irina would be happy for me, wouldn't she? She'd love Emmett."

"Yes, she would be, Rose. She probably is, you know?"

Through the years, witnessing Rosalie and her grief, I often wondered what was worse for her. Was it the knowledge that she'd never see Irina again in her lifetime, all memories of her paused, and no more new ones to come, or was it the trauma of the accident, the blame Rosalie had placed on herself? I knew then, it didn't matter which was worse. The fact was, even if Rose had finally moved on, allowed herself happiness, admitted to herself she deserved it, she would always miss her sister. That would never stop for as long as she lived.

"Yeah, I'm sure she is." Rosalie nodded her agreement.

"Are you done crying?"

"I think so." She went toward the far wall where her shoes stood in wait. Her long train struggled behind her. She reached her hand back to try and lift it but it seemed too heavy for her, so I leaned down, picked the ends up and followed her.

"How are you going to move in this thing? Or dance?"

"It bustles, Edward."

"What does that mean?"

She held an arm out toward me. "Lift the train over my arm." I did as she asked. "You should ask Emmett about the bustle. I answered that same question for him, and I'd love to hear the two of you discuss bustling." She smiled, and I relaxed knowing she was feeling well enough to joke. She slipped her feet into her shoes. I caught a glimpse of them. High heels. She was at least four inches taller once she had them on.

:::::::::

Bella hadn't worn shoes to our wedding. She showed me her feet after I'd kissed her for the first time as her husband. I'd wanted that kiss to be perfect. I was completely focused on Bella. The ocean, waves fighting for the shore, went silent. Wind blew her hair forward and I pushed it back, all the while looking into her eyes. I placed my hand at her neck, caressing my thumb along her cheek and let my lips fall slowly to hers. One simple kiss, and then I opened her lips with mine, slipping my tongue inside. I heard her breath catch, her hands came to my face as her tongue pushed against mine, forcefully entering my mouth too. She didn't know how much I loved when she lost patience, unable to resist my slow kisses--didn't know what effect that had on me. For those few moments, we were the only ones there. And then clapping, a foreign sound, something outside of us, brought us back to the beach, the waves heard again, birds, wind. We pulled away from each other and both laughed at the way we'd forgotten how watched we were. We faced the small gathering, and I linked her hand to my elbow, holding it there as our minister announced us for the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Cullen. I led Bella down the aisle and felt her eyes on me. I turned and gazed back at her.

"I didn't trip," she said when we stopped at the end of the aisle. "Are you surprised?"

"I wasn't expecting you to trip, Bella."

"Not even in heels in the sand?"

"You're in heels? You?"

"Look." She lifted the bottom of her dress to reveal red toe nails and bare feet, except for a ring around her second toe that adorned her foot with a line of crystals up to and around her ankle. I couldn't decide what was sexier, this simple vision of her jeweled feet, or seeing her in just her slip only an hour earlier, or the way silk led from her shoulders, dipping to a point at her cleavage in the dress she wore now. "Alice found them."

I glanced at Alice next to us. She saw something in my face that made her laugh. Then she raised her eyebrows at me. "You're welcome."

Our guests had left their seats and were gathering around us, still quiet and staring, even family members behaving like an audience. Masen reached for Bella from a weepy Renee. Bella hugged her mother and took Masen.

"Mommy and Daddy are married now," Bella told him with a kiss.

He leaned toward her and kissed her face, too.

"That's right, Baby," she said. "That's love."

I put my arms around both of them, embracing my family for the first time as Bella's husband before anyone could whisk either of them away.

"_You're_ love, Mrs. Cullen," I said.

"And so are you, Mr. Swan." That was the first time she'd called me that, and we both laughed.

:::::::::

Now, four-year-old Masen walked the aisle of the candlelit church with Irina's daughter. She kept reaching for his hand, trying to hold it, but Masen wouldn't let go of the ring pillow. He held on with both hands, having heard from Emmett how important his job was. He made his way to me, and I took his shoulder. "Good job, little man."

He felt the flower at his chest, as if to make sure it was still there. I looked over at Bella, who was looking down proudly at Masen. I waited until she felt my gaze, her eyes meeting mine. The wedding march sounded and Rosalie was approaching, no longer in tears, but all smiles, and Emmett was beaming, too.

"It's genuine," Jasper whispered.

"What is?"

"Rosalie's smile. Whatever was wrong earlier is gone."

I let go of Masen's shoulder for a second to feel my jacket where the picture was hidden. Jasper was wrong. It wasn't gone. _She_ wasn't gone. Irina would always be in Rosalie and Rosalie knew that. She'd come to terms with it. I was proud of her. She'd learned how to take control of her emotions, and even when some occasions were more overwhelming, like today, her way of dealing with her grief and guilt, overcoming them, hadn't failed her in over two years. A mere twenty minutes earlier tears had been dripping from her chin onto her dress as she'd sat in a chair. And now there was no sign of that girl. This girl stood tall and happy. I could almost believe that what happened earlier in the bride's chamber had been my imagination.

:::::::::

Too soon after our ceremony in the sand, Bella was whirled away from me as I'd expected. First it was Leah, who caught Bella's hand and started leading her up the hill to the reception. She only allowed Bella to pause long enough for Charlie to gather his daughter into his arms, whisper something to her and kiss her cheek.

Up there, in the grassy area, long tables had been set up covered in white and finished off with vases full of flowers. A breeze swept through the table cloths, but barely lifted them. At the corner of each cloth dangled beaded weight, securing the fabric. The beads matched Bella's wedding colors, colors of the sea, and I knew instantly that those additions had been Alice's doing.

Back behind the tables was a wooden platform for dancing. With Bella all the way over on the opposite end of the reception area, I kept glancing over at her. Most times she was laughing, other times she seemed to be looking intently at whomever was talking to her, and a few times, she looked my way and our eyes locked. I'd smile at her and she'd smile back until someone would pull her attention away. And then my attention was pulled away too, and when I looked back, Bella was gone. I searched the area, through a sea of familiar smiles, until I found Bella again, this time laughing with Alice.

Even if Bella was dreading it, I welcomed the announcement of our first dance. I got to hold her uninterruptedly in my arms. I took her hands and placed them up around my neck, my fingers sweeping down her arms to her waist. "Just hold onto me," I said. "All we have to do is hug and sway."

She rested her head on my shoulder. "Gladly."

Our movements were slow as we danced under the aging light.

"Remember our dance by the creek?" I asked, my arms rounding her back, my hold on her tightening.

"How could I forget? That was one of the most perfect nights of my life."

I pulled back to kiss her; I wouldn't have been able to stop myself. "Thank you for marrying me, Mrs. Cullen," I said, my eyes remaining closed, my lips still against hers. We may have stopped dancing.

"Thank you for asking me, Mr. Swan," she answered, her lips moving against mine.

The music quieted to a pause and there was tapping against a glass. We turned to see Rosalie standing with a microphone, clearing her throat into it. My dad handed both Bella and me a glass of champagne, and we listened to Rosalie, my arm around Bella's waist.

Rosalie took a moment to compose herself. She kept opening her mouth, and then closing it.

"I-I asked to give the toast because… well, because frankly I have a lot to say to the two of you. But... as I'm standing here, I'm realizing I might not have been the best person for the job because for the first time in my life, I'm nervous." She laughed, and others laughed with her, possibly nervous for her as well. I tried to make eye contact with Rosalie and smile, hoping to calm her some so she could get through this. She wasn't looking at me though. She was looking at Bella. "Bella, even though she'd never admit it, probably not even to herself, could get through this so much more eloquently."

Bella shook her head, doubting herself. I squeezed her to me and felt her arm come around my waist and squeeze back.

"So here goes. First of all, I have to tell you that you're the best mother and father I know. Your son couldn't be any sweeter or any better image of his parents. You've both shown Masen how to be the beautiful little person he's grown into. Edward..." Rosalie looked my way, and paused. I nodded at her. "You've always been like-like a brother to me. In fact, you've _been_ my brother, and I can never thank you enough for that. And as your sister-" she smiled a smile that looked a little devious "-I can honestly say that there is nobody, _nobody_, better suited for you than Bella." Her voice cracked; she was fighting against crying, and cleared her throat again.

"You two complement each other the way most couples can only dream of complementing one another. You're the only couple I know who can be on opposite ends of a room, or an outdoor garden like this, find each other's eyes, and have everything around you disappear, melt away like candle wax. It's just the two of you, all the time, and it's always been that way. Despite what Emmett might say, you've made me a believer in fate, because if any two people are made for each other, it's you two, and to that, I say congratulations. Congratulations on finding it. Congratulations on fighting for it and congratulations on holding tightly to it." She raised her glass. "To Edward and Bella, who are proof that fate not only exists, but is on our side."

Glasses clinked around us and I held mine up to Bella, whose tears were falling down her face. "Bella… don't."

She tapped her glass against mine with a sniffle. "I can't help it."

"Then do," I said, and kissed her tears on both cheeks and then her lips.

"We're meant to be," she said, her arms fastened around me.

"I know."

Our guests were invited to the buffet, and a few people made their way to me and Bella, reminding us again that we weren't alone. My grandfather approached first, and he was smiling. Maybe he'd calmed now that he was no longer in sand, or maybe the drink in one hand and the cigar in the other was responsible for calming him. Either way, it made Bella happy when he congratulated her with a hug.

My grandfather's hands came to rest at her back, and I saw with widening eyes the end of her veil browning and disintegrating against the tip of my grandfather's lit cigar.

"Grandfather!" I took the cigar from his hand and he reached for it like Masen fighting for a toy I'd taken. "You can't be near Bella with hot or burning things."

Bella examined the end of her veil, then she unclipped it from the back of her head, the ribbons through her hair staying intact. "Oh well," she said. "It's time to take this thing off anyway. Just don't tell Alice what happened." She laughed.

"See, Grandfather? Do you see why I love this girl?"

"Wrong question," he said, taking his cigar back. "The question is, why does she love you?" He pointed at me with his cigar and laughed a deep, choking laugh that continued to grow. He was proud of his joke. And as unfunny as his joke may have been, the sight of the old man would have had anyone laughing.

After dinner and more dancing, Masen was falling asleep on my mother. Bella and I kissed our sleepy son as he tried to force his eyes open, but they seemed to keep closing against his will. And as his eyes finally gave up the fight, so did the day. The sun was setting.

I took Bella's hand and led her toward the hill and down to the sand. As we approached the taller, wild grass and weeds, Bella slowed, taking careful steps. Remembering that she wasn't wearing shoes, I lifted her and carried her until we met sand, where I lowered her to her feet. With both of my arms around her, we stood alone and silent watching the orange sun as it seemed to slowly sink into the sea, bringing the entire sky along in its outstretched arms.

The sand expanded around us and in front of us, as if it went on and on, neverending, though it must have ended somewhere. The ocean, like the wind, never stalled in movement, and we remained the stillest things on the beach. The sun was below the horizon now, on its way to light up some other part of the Earth. Our sky deepened, the moon turning the sea silver. We were statues in the sand, my arms around Bella's middle, my chin resting on her shoulder, as time continued around us. It was just the two of us. Mr. and Mrs. Cullen. Our marriage only hours old, but our union immeasurable against time. We stood still.

:::::::::

The sky wasn't visible at Emmett and Rosalie's reception, held in a large dining hall decorated with balloons and expensive looking flowers in huge arrangements, some on stands, some spread in a line of vases across long tables. The tables were draped in silk or satin instead of cotton, and each chair was tied with a bow.

If we couldn't get Masen easily into his jacket before the wedding, it wasn't coming easily off of him afterwards, because with the jacket went the flower, and he wanted to wear that flower.

"I could pin it to your shirt, Mase," Bella tried.

"No, it belongs to the jacket like Uncle Emmett's."

"But you're sweating."

"No I'm not." Masen pouted and wiped his forehead.

I took a glass of ice water off the table and pressed it to the sides of his face. "Is that better?"

He nodded. "Can I go dance some more?"

"Drink some water first," I said. He took a few big gulps before running off to join Rosalie and Alice on the dance floor, who were more than happy to welcome him back.

"He loves to dance. That definitely doesn't come from me," Bella said. "Who does he get that from?"

I shrugged.

Then we both looked over at the dance floor. Next to Masen, who was jumping after the twirling and flashing lights on the floor, trying to catch them, were my mom and dad dancing slow and close. They hadn't moved from the dance floor since dinner ended. I watched them. Really watched them. Naturally, I'd seen them embrace before and I knew they loved each other, but I never took the time to really experience it with them like this. As I watched their smiles, their constant touches, and eye gazes, I saw in them the same love that Bella and I shared.

Bella seemed to be watching them, too. I held my hand to her. "Dance with me for one song?"

She nodded and stood up. As easy as that. I didn't even have to coax her into it. Whatever I'd seen in my parents, she'd noticed too. I led her to the dance floor and held Bella as close to me as possible. It wasn't close enough. Our clothes were barriers between us. I wanted the night to draw to an end. To have Bella naked in my arms.

:::::::::

Every time we made love it was new and familiar both at the same time. Bella, her skin, her breasts, her hips, her thighs calling for my touch, and my fingers drawn to her, finding her, feeling her, always knowing where to go to please her, but as if searching her body for the first time, followed by my lips. My tongue tasting her. There was nothing like having Bella beneath me as I grazed her body, bringing forth shudders and gasps. Her sounds grew from quickening breaths to soft cries, and finally into moans and then my name from her lips.

In our honeymoon suite, so private and alone, there had been no reason to muffle her voice, and I did my best to bring every last cry and whimper out of her. I waited in deep concentration for her to find release first, but her kisses were eager too, and her lips finding my shoulder, her tongue on my neck and ear, made my struggle all the more difficult, my resistance failing. I groaned as I attempted with all I had to fight against my own release. Bella first. But I was losing strength, her lips breezing across my collar bone, her fingers digging my back. I gave her one more deep thrust; this had to be it. And it was. She lost herself, quivering against me, and I went with her. I could no longer hold out. She squeezed so tightly around my neck, it nearly choked me. I felt her love for me in that grasp, and it made me smile as I kissed her neck, too exhausted in that moment to even lift my head.

I whispered my love to her and she returned it, and like every time it was spoken, the words didn't seem enough. All I could do was hope she knew how much I meant it. How I felt it in every pore of my skin, and every vein in my body. And I lay inside her, not leaving. Nothing between us, we were as close as we could get, connecting. We were one.

"Never let me go," she said.

"Never," I said.

:::::::::

As Rosalie's and Emmett's wedding wound to a close, people in their formal dress swayed out the doors, leaning against each other--much different than when they'd entered the church earlier, all stiff-postured like starched shirts ironed with a heavy hand. No, on their way out, they floated, holding each other. Our group wandered similarly out to the balcony for some air.

"When did we grow up?" Emmett asked, an arm slung over his bride's shoulders as they walked.

"Are we grown up?" Bella asked

"It would seem so," Jasper said.

"Alice?" Rosalie asked, guiding her dress in front of her, I supposed so she wouldn't trip over it. "I guess this means you and Jasper are next."

Jasper gave a quick answer before Alice had time to open her mouth. "We're not in a rush."

"Don't bullshit us," Emmett said, and Bella covered Masen's ears.

"Emmett!"

"Sorry, B. Don't _fool_ us. We can see the ring on your lady's finger." He took Alice's hand and raised it. "That's no promise ring."

Alice laughed, flashing Jasper a look. "All right," she said. "In December. We're having a winter wedding back home in Forks."

"Sounds beautiful," said Bella, and I leaned down to her ear.

"You're beautiful." I whispered the words--tried to keep it secret, but Masen wouldn't allow that.

"Yeah, you're beautiful, Mommy," he said, leading to sighs and aws coming from Rose and Alice.

Alice leaned down to kiss his cheek. "When the rest of us have kids, will you teach them to be as sweet as you?"

Masen nodded enthusiastically.

Our glasses now empty, everyone left Bella, Masen, and me on the balcony as they went for refills. Below the balcony was a large, grassy park, hills fading from sight into darkness. Trees, their leaves shaking in the breeze, could be heard but not seen. They were nothing but deep shadows from where we stood.

I lifted Masen. "Little man, take a look at the stars." He lifted his head.

"There's so many. How many are there, Daddy?"

"Too many to count. Listen, one night, a long time ago, before you were born--in fact, you were inside your mommy's tummy..."

He looked at Bella, down at her small, flat stomach, probably wondering how it was possible for him to fit inside her, and he laughed.

"Your mom and I were sitting in a park thinking about what life might be like once you joined us. But it wasn't a clear night, like tonight. We couldn't see the stars. Your mom said to me that she wished she could see them. I had her close her eyes and helped her imagine constellations. But you know what?"

"What?" Masen asked, turning from the sky to face me, a fingertip at his bottom lip.

"Tonight, we don't have to imagine them. They're right there, aren't they? And they look close. You see?"

"Uh-huh. And the moon, Daddy." He pointed up at the glowing white crescent.

"That's right. The moon too. And you know what else?"

"Huh?"

"We also don't have to imagine what life might be like once you come along, because here you are, and I think life is pretty great, don't you?'

"Yeah, pretty great."

"I love you, Mase," I said.

"I love you too, Daddy."

Bella wrapped both of her arms around Masen and me, and I embraced her with my free arm as she gave Masen a kiss.

"Bella, is there anything in the world that could make this night more perfect?"

"Nothing. We don't need anything else. We don't even need the stars."

Over time, some of our dreams had greatly changed, while others had been realized. We were still young, Bella not yet twenty-three, and we had a lifetime ahead of us--new dreams to mould until they became part of our reality. We'd learned together that life's surprises were countless. Some surprises were shocking enough to blindside you and alter your path completely. Five years ago, neither of us would have imagined we'd be standing here tonight, overlooking a balcony in California, married, a child in our arms. And now, we couldn't, nor would we want to, imagine our life any differently. There was a sort of powerful feeling that came with making it through our adversities--finding our way to the straight and open road from every winding and narrow one that enveloped us. We were all the stronger for it.

There we were, the three of us, perhaps miniscule in comparison to the world, but it didn't feel that way. We felt enormous together. We felt as big as the world. And bigger yet. We held the world in our arms, and it was ours, and we weren't letting go.

I picked up Bella's hand--the one that wore my ring-- and kissed it. "Let's go home," I said.


	44. FutureTake Memories EPOV

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

Hello! _Not Without You_ is back for a little while. Capricorn75 has not only very graciously bid and donated $50 for an outtake offered in the Fandom Gives Back auction, she has also quite enthusiastically allowed me to share it. I want to thank her for the generous bid, and the awesome story prompt. She requested a future-take in Edward's POV involving Daddyward and Masen through the years. She also requested a final scene from Masen's POV, which will be more than just one scene and posted in a second chapter.

Here you go...

* * *

Not Without You

Future-Take

Memories

I opt to write the letter rather than type it out. I'd already wasted enough time stiff as a statue behind my office desk, staring at my blank computer screen, my mind following the screen's lead, fading just as blank - white, stark, empty. Writing it out proves more personal, more organic, and right after "Dear Bella" is penned at the top left, the memories flow like a clogged fountain finally unplugged, not merely trickling, but pouring full-force, many at a time and one after the other, scribbling over the pages…

...

Dear Bella,

Since you requested my memories of Masen by the end of the week, and it's now Friday, I guess I'd better get started. Here come the memories you asked for. I'll do my best to keep them in order, but can't give you a guarantee. Whose memory ever works in order? One thought leads to the next, to the next, to the next, and you're lucky if there's any connection in time at all. It's certainly no dot-to-dot. The subconscious exudes the memories out like those old Play-Doh presses - the clay is stuffed in one end and it oozes out the other in different shapes and density. There's no succession in the deep dark.

Worse, though, than having to sort through the order, is you having to deal with my handwriting.

First, it shouldn't be possible in any dimension or realm of reality that we're well into Masen's eighteenth year. But here we are, eighteen years, seven months, three weeks, one day, and some-odd hours since Masen took his first breath of air as our son. A breath that meant a universe more to us than anybody else could imagine, knowing the circumstances surrounding his conception. Despite that, he's never had to feel as though he was a mistake or unwanted, and for that, I'll always be grateful. Dealing with knowledge like that as a kid is nothing I'd ever want my son to so much as taste, let alone swallow and digest.

I couldn't have asked for a better mother of you, nor could I have dreamed of a better son than the one created of our own flesh and blood. You breathed so much of yourself into him, and though you might argue, I'm convinced you're the reason Masen is who he's become today.

One of my earliest memories is right after we brought Masen home from the hospital. He was still often "Baby" to us then, remember? That wasn't an easy habit to break.

You were exhausted; I could see it in your eyes and hear it in the quiet of your voice. Simply speaking seemed to put a strain on you. So, I took Masen off your hands at night, just to give you a few straight hours of rest. Masen became my midnight buddy. He'd wake up at midnight - give or take a minute - almost every night, and it got to the point where I'd wake up before him, and I could sneak him from his bassinet before he woke you. You'd stir every once in a while, or mumble something. Often the mumblings were just Masen's or my name, and other times they'd be more specific to the dream you were having. I'd take Masen out before he had a chance to begin his hollering, and leave you tucked away in the solace of your dreams.

I'd have to offer Masen the tip of my knuckle to suck on as his bottle heated up. He was impatient to eat, and when I'd finally get that bottle in his mouth, he'd go crazy with it, moving his head, his chin, trying to get as much out of the pin-hole opening as he could. Milk would pour down his face and all over his neck, so I learned to keep a cloth nearby to mop the kid up. I'd have barely been seated on the sofa with him, and his bottle would be halfway gone. Eventually, he'd relax and sigh, maybe understanding that I wasn't going to snatch the thing away from him and let him starve. Right before his sigh, each infantile movement was quick and jerky, the kick of his feet or the sudden turn of his head. He was still getting a handle on his muscle movement - just a baby. But as his twitching gentled and he exhaled that soft sound - the smallest sound impelling the biggest impact - I was reminded that he was an actual little person, not just a baby.

This propelled thoughts of the future, all the things this little person and I would do together. Things I never had the chance to experience with my own father. I'd teach him piano and ball. I'd take him to ballgames and coach him in any sport he wanted to play. And as much as I love remembering his tiny face - his closed eyes, his hair as soft as your lips - as I'd sit with him in the silence of the night, only Masen's sucking noises or profound sighs heard, nothing could beat making those father-son moments a reality. In fact, I no longer feel sorry for myself for not having that with my father. I only feel sorry for my dad, who never commandeered that fatherly experience for himself due to lack of time or lack of energy to make the time. It's all-too amazing for words to have a son whom you have the time for, and to witness that incomparable gleam in his eye when he sees you that tells you more than any words could ever tell you that he loves you. That gleam that tells you he can't wait for what the day holds for just the two of you. A father can't ask for a look like that or implore it; all he can do is wait for it, hope for it, and Masen graced me with that look regularly.

The first glimpse I caught of that look, Masen was two, and I hadn't recognized what it meant then, only that there was something different behind his eyes when he walked over to me and announced, "Bassetball."

We were in the living room, still in that apartment off Pollazzi's Bed and Breakfast. Now, no getting sad, Bella, this is about Masen here, but just in case, I'll be sure to stick around while you're reading this.

"Bassetball," he said.

"You want to play basketball?"

Masen gave one of his big nods, lifting his head back, eyes on the ceiling, then dropping his chin to his chest.

"Come on, little man." He followed me to his nook of a room, but when I took the basketball out of his toy box, he shook his head.

"No. Bassetball."

"This is a basketball, buddy." I dribbled it to show him.

"No! Bassetball." His tone of voice told me I'd gotten it all wrong.

I frowned. "Here, show me." I lifted the toy box lid. He dug around inside, reaching into each of the four corners, his little body practically upside down, and he came out smiling with a baseball between his hands.

"Bassetball."

I laughed. "Okay, buddy." I ruffed up his hair with my palm. "Let's go play basketball."

Back then all he did out on the lawn was toss the ball and watch it fall. He wanted to throw it though, frustrated with rolling or anything resembling it. No ground balls at all would do. He lost interest soon enough, letting the ball bury itself in the tall grass, and stood up straight with his arms out stiff at his sides, parallel to the ground.

"Air-plane! Air-plane!" he said in his choppy toddler-speak, flapping his arms.

"Get your wings ready."

"Ready!"

"Are you sure?" I pushed on his arms, and they sank a little. "I don't think so. You need stronger wings than that to take us where we're going."

"Sa-finsco?"

"That's right, San Francisco, now try again. Are those wings ready?" The second time I pushed them, his 'wings' held strong. "Alright, captain, get your crew ready and start your engine. Tell me when to go."

"Go."

"What'd you say?"

"Go!"

"Captain, I'm sorry, I can't hear you over that roaring engine. Speak up, man."

"Go, go go!"

I swept him up the way I did, my forearms holding his chest and stomach, and flew him around the yard. He screamed and laughed.

"Pull up, pull up! You're gonna crash, buddy!" I swooped him down toward the grass, he strained to lift his neck, and up we went again, Masen's laughter preceding us.

"Are you in the sky?"

"Yah!"

"Do you see any clouds?"

"Uh-huh."

"What color are they?"

"White."

"White? Are you sure they're not purple?"

He laughed.

"Or maybe pink, like cotton candy?"

"No!"

"Captain! Close your mouth before you swallow those skybugs!"

I took him for one more round over the yard.

"Are you ready to come in for a landing?"

"Yah!"

"Do you think we can do it this time, or will we crash again?"

"We crash!"

Down we went tumbling, Masen laughing, and me completely out of breath. "You wore your old man out," I said. "You've got to work on those landings, Captain."

Two years later, the airplane was long-forgotten, but Masen's ball playing talent poked its head out of hiding. Out on the lawn at our then, new two-bedroom apartment, he caught the ball on the first few throws, my reactions making him beam, but after the third throw, he couldn't catch another one, and he grew more frustrated with each throw his way. He picked up the ball, and with all his anger and a stomped foot, he hurled it at me.

His arm... How could a four year old throw like that? Anger didn't matter. Strength didn't matter. Nor did the speed that was unarguably behind it. What was most astonishing was his aim. The ball came right to my glove in a hard, straight line.

"Mase, did you just throw that? Who threw that?"

"Me."

"No, you didn't throw that. It must have been someone else. Someone huge." I pretended to look around him. He checked over his shoulder, appearing almost convinced someone may have been there impersonating him. Maybe the throw hadn't come from him after all.

"No, I did." He pointed at his chest.

"Nah, a little guy like you can't throw like that. Not that hard. No way. Are you putting me on? Are you pulling the wool over my eyes?"

He laughed, and shook his head.

"Oh yeah? It was you?"

He gave me a nod.

"Okay, then, prove it." I tossed the ball back to him and stepped back, farther this time. "Throw it again. Just like you did."

He pulled his arm back and launched the ball. Seconds later it was in my glove, landing hard.

"That was you. Imagine that. Do you know what this means?"

"No."

"We have to call the San Francisco Giants and warn them about you."

"A Giant? Me?"

"You will be if you keep throwing like that, kid."

He continued throwing like that, and as he grew older, nine or ten, it became clear that it wasn't just me, a proud father, creating his own deluded mirage of a talented son. His talent was real, astonishing both Jasper and Emmett as Masen struck them out with little effort.

I remember cheering Masen on as he won Little League medals for hitting and throwing. I remember parents more competitive than their sport-playing children complaining with irritation that their sons were up against Masen. I would smile at their comments, taking their intended insults as compliments. Marie was with us then, sitting on your lap in the bleachers, clapping right along with the crowd, though she had no idea why she was clapping other than that it was a fun thing to do with her hands.

Masen was seven years old when I brought him to the hospital to meet his baby sister for the first time. Bella, the grief you gave me for wanting to name our little girl after your grandmother - I'll never understand why you don't want, or don't think you're worthy, to have something that comes from you alone. But after a lot - too much - insistence on my end, you finally agreed to Marie for our brown-eyed-beauty. And I do recall the one argument that persuaded you in the end was the idea that both of our children's names would begin with "M". You're so impossible that I want to find you right now and kiss you, but here I am at work, in my shirt and tie: which reminds me of another Masen memory that I'll write about now before it escapes me. It's a quick one, so bear with me; I'll get back to the birth of our beautiful Marie in a minute.

He was thirteen when I taught him how to tie his own necktie. We knew Masen liked dancing enough that we weren't surprised he wanted to attend his eighth grade graduation dance. But I recall a time when we would have been floored since the both of us avoided those things throughout our school careers. That, of course, is only one of many differences between our son and us, isn't it?

Masen wouldn't stop complaining about the tie - it was choking him; he couldn't tie it straight; the top layer was too short.

"I'm trashing it as soon as I get inside the gym," he said, his voice deeper than it had been the day before. He was taller than you, then, already up to my shoulder. If I watched closely enough through the mirror, I bet I could have seen him mature a little bit right in front of my eyes as the seconds passed. He returned my look with frustration, and glancing back and forth between his eyes and mine, I could find absolutely no difference in our eye colors. (I just had to add that because I know how much you love it.)

I pretended ties were no big deal. "Leave it on," I told him. "You'll get used to it."

I'm loosening my tie right now at my desk as I'm writing this because what a lie that was. And I wouldn't hesitate to tell him that either, Bella - that his dad lied. Ties suck, and if he chooses an anti-tie career, I'll envy him.

"How am I supposed to get used to this?" Masen asked. "I can't breathe." He relieved his throat of the constricting knot, lowering it enough to open the top button of his shirt, and I let him have that.

"That's fine. Wear it like that. No one will care if it's a little loose, but Mase, before you take it off tonight, just think of the girls at this dance and the shoes they're wearing. They dance in those things, you know? Trying to look pretty for you. A tie can't be any worse than that."

"Girls take off their shoes when they dance. I've seen Rosalie and Alice do it."

I scoffed at him and shook my head because I was out of arguments. If I'm being honest, Bella, I think the only time you wore heels was when you walked down the aisle at Alice's and Rosalie's weddings, and as soon as you had the chance, you had them off. And there I was forcing a tie on our thirteen year old son. If the tickets hadn't read "Formal Event," I would have cut the thing off his neck for him.

He ran a hand through his hair, that somehow through the years remained the dark blond it is, and announced he was ready.

"Are you sure? Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

"Don't you want to trim your eyebrows, buddy?" I said it with the straightest face, but Masen released a smile.

"Dad! Give it up. I was four."

"Sorry," I smiled and messed up his hair even more. "Can't do it."

Okay, back to our son's welcome of Marie. I lifted Masen so he could peer through the window where Marie was being washed, prodded, poked and weighed. She came to us two weeks early, and she was tiny, wasn't she? Looking through the window, she was the color of a cranberry, and crying loud enough for Masen and I to hear her through the glass - much louder than Masen had cried after he was born.

You were still in recovery, and if I learned anything from Masen's birth, you wouldn't be happy if I didn't come and see you right away, so as soon as Masen had his fill of Marie, we joined you in your room. You were sleeping, and we sat in chairs beside your bed whispering. Of course with you lying there, exhausted from the delivery of our second baby, I couldn't resist kissing your cheek before taking my seat, and was relieved when it didn't wake you. At Masen's birth your room was filled with people, I'm sure you remember. But with Marie, it was just us, our parents home in Forks, Alice and Jasper in Oakland working at their, then, small shelter, and Emmett and Rosalie in San Francisco. I think Emmett had just passed his bar exam. We feared for all lawyers who would find themselves with the misfortune to litigate against him.

"What's my job?" Masen's hushed voice asked.

"Your job?"

"As a brother. Kenny says it's a hard job being a big brother. But I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I saw her skinny arms. If I touch them too hard, they'll break."

"Mase, you don't have to worry about that. Her arms won't break. You'll know how to touch your baby sister without hurting her. And being a big brother? I've never been one, but I wouldn't call it a job. You'll probably want to take care of your sister, protect her from harm. It'll all come natural, I bet. Your mom and I... we don't expect anything from you. And hey buddy, the fact that you even care about the kind of brother you'll be proves how great you already are."

"But am I big enough for her?"

I frowned at him, confused by what he was getting at, and his whisper fell quieter.

"I still sleep in the closet," he said, looking down at his shoes, swinging - they couldn't reach the floor.

"Oh, well, if you're ready to move to your bed, that's probably a good idea. But there's no rush, Mase. Marie won't know the difference between a bed, a crib, or a closet for quite a while now."

The nurse brought Marie in for a feeding and woke you up. You smiled at Masen and asked him to come kiss you, but remember? He wouldn't get close to you. He stood at the foot of the bed with his hands clasped behind his back, as if he was afraid that when he let go they'd go flailing out of control and hurt his sister. I'm laughing now, like a mad-person alone in my office, just remembering how firmly he held his hands behind him.

Thirty hours later, back at home, Marie asleep in her cradle, you asleep in our bed, I heard Masen crying. He was in his closet and I pushed back the door, offering him my arms. I wasn't sure then, at his age, how much comfort he wanted from his dad, but it turned out, he wanted it all. He leapt toward me and cried on my shoulder, soaking my shirt.

"What's the matter, buddy?" I asked, rubbing his back.

"I-I'm supposed to be bigger than this," he choked out.

Witnessing him cry over that, I thought, for the first time, maybe it had been a mistake indulging Masen in his second sanctuary. We'd thought it was cute, but maybe allowing it had done more harm than good. Too late to change what was already done, I let it go.

"You only have to be as big as you are. You think when I was seven, I would have thought of growing up for a sister? No way. You know what was on my mind? Mud, dirt, tadpoles in the creek, donuts."

"Donuts?"

"Yeah, I wanted them everyday for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. There were no thoughts of being big, I'll tell you that."

"But I can't be a big brother if I can't sleep in my own bed."

I pulled him away from the closet and sat him across from me on the floor - brushed some hair off his forehead. His fists ground so deeply into his eyelids, he had to have been hurting himself, as he tried to get hold of his cries.

"How about a deal?" I said. "I'll sit with you on your bed until you fall asleep. I'll do that every night, until you don't need me anymore. And sometimes, when your mom needs our help, it'll be you, me, and Marie all on your bed. But for now, we'll take the pillow and blankets, and your squirrel from the closet, and you can fill that spot with other things - treasures. It'll still be your secret space, just not your bed."

"How can it be a secret if you know about it?"

"Well…" I moved in closer. "If you stop sleeping in there, and your mom and I promise not to peek, then eventually, we'll forget all about it. I won't know what belongings you choose to fill your own space with, and because mommy and I only ever open your closet to help you with your clothes or your shoes, we have no reason to take a look at the other side of it. How does that sound?"

"You guys vacuum in there."

I laughed at the way kids think of everything. "True." I nodded. "But you'll hear the vacuum ahead of time, so you'll have the chance to hide anything you want."

That seemed to appease him, and we walked to his bed. He got in first, then patted the spot beside him. As soon as I sat down, my back against the headboard, he covered me up with the sheets and that spaceship comforter. And when he curled up next to me, his head on my chest, his breathing deepening, every-so-often, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips, there was no leaving. I could've just lay there for the rest of my life listening to his breathing. I slept in our son's small bed all night, and asked myself how long it would be, or how soon it would be, before he'd stop inviting me into his room and start locking me out.

As I lay with Masen, I was reminded of that awful night he ran away, not much more than a year earlier. You weren't specific that you only wanted the happiest memories, and I think this is a major, life changing memory for us, how horrified we were for that period of time he was missing from our lives. There's hardly an evening that parallels the horror of that one. The night you, Rose and Alice were tailed by those assholes in Port Angeles, and that day Masen was sick to the point of dehydration are the closest I can think of.

It was our fault he ran away. You were still subbing back then, the opportunity of your first job teaching had yet to even tap on a window. We couldn't have known then that in a few short months you'd be settling yourself down into your literature niche at the local middle school. We were plagued like much of the Silicon Valley with the downsizing going on all over the Bay Area, and my subsequent layoff. Even with my severance pay, money was dwindling to nothing more than dust at the bottom of our wallets. Unemployment checks were not enough to cover our monthly expenses. There was rent, energy, water, auto insurance, taxes, all our gluttonous bills devouring our bank account.

Our frustrations were higher than they'd ever been as the impending loss of our apartment snapped at our heels like the mouths of hungry snakes. PG&E had to call to remind us to pay our bill, a bill we lacked the money to pay. Everything turned into a fight back then. If I left crumbs from the toaster on the counter, I may as well have turned the toaster upside down and shaken the crumbs purposefully all over the kitchen, with the earful that would rattle from your mouth of how prideless I was and how little I cared. And if you stepped into the shower before me on certain mornings, you got an earful of how disrespectful you were for making me late for an interview. It didn't dawn on us then, as it used to, how easy it would have been for you to wipe the counter when you found the crumbs, or for me to join you in the shower. And I was never once late for an interview, having only to speed things up by five minutes, taking my coffee with me, or fixing my necktie in the car.

Everything was strained, and Masen felt it probably the worst because he was so little and couldn't understand. We were oblivious, Bella. We didn't even realize how bad things were between us until we were arguing over who the hell remembers what. We were yelling, our voices growing, and it wasn't until I started swearing that you looked around for Mase, and he was gone.

We checked everywhere, six or seven times, every closet, every nook. He wasn't in the house. You grew frantic as we searched, blaming yourself, your apologizes profuse and repetitive because you'd convinced yourself you must have left the door unlocked and he'd wandered out.

"I can't remember unlocking it, Edward, but I must have."

I would have told you it could have just as easily been me who left the door unlocked, but I was also in a panic - had to find Masen, had to calm us both down.

I folded you into my arms, truly feeling you for the first time in weeks, and you felt as fragile as porcelain. You were shaking. You thought I hated you and blamed you, but those thoughts never entered my mind.

I whispered your name as you cried against my shoulder. "We have to calm down and find our son. We have to call the police," I said, and my face was as wet with tears as yours.

What did that feel like? How do you describe something like that? It must have been like being in the eye of a tornado, trapped, chaos surrounding us. We couldn't leave because what if we went in the wrong direction, while Masen continued to get farther away, and what if he came home? And we couldn't stay home and wait, because then we weren't doing enough. There was nowhere to go but in circles.

I had no idea how checking his room would help since we'd checked numerous times already, but I checked it again, while you were outside calling his name. It was that tenth time checking his room, though, that I noticed his squirrel was gone. It wasn't in his closet on his pillow, where it always waited, and I knew instantly what that meant. Masen hadn't wandered out a door left unlocked - he'd deliberately left, took the time to get the squirrel, and snuck away. Somehow, in all the madness, this calmed me. This meant he may have had a destination in mind. He wasn't out aimlessly crossing streets and facing speeding cars; he had purpose. But where would he run? What places did he know?

I found you out front; the sun was setting, the air was cooling, and I told you what I'd discovered.

Before the police even showed up, you figured it out.

"Wait!" you said. "Wait, wait, wait. I know where he is. Please let him be there..."

You ran off from me in the opposite direction, and I followed you around the apartment complex to our back patio, where you bent down on your hands and knees, crawling under the porch.

"Masen!" I heard you say, but that was all, and I wasn't sure if you were calling him or if you'd found him, but seconds later, you backed up with Masen sleeping in your arms, the squirrel nestled snuggly against his chest. Your lips were all over his face as you brought him right to me, pushing him to my chest. I had him cradled against me in one arm, and pulled you to me with my other, and we stood their hugging, forgetting about everything. We even forgot the world was there for a little while. There was no need for it.

Finally we recalled life, and went back inside to make another call to the lagging police, letting them know we'd found our son.

Masen awoke in my arms, as I was delivering him to his bedroom.

"Dad?"

"Never do that again, Masen," I said. "We've been out of our minds worrying about you. You're our son, our child, our love and our life. You're not allowed to leave us. Ever."

"Are you and mommy done fighting?"

I exchanged a glance with you, guilt apparent, I'm sure, on both of our faces, and a coinciding pang nipped away at my chest. "We're done for now, buddy, but that's no guarantee that we'll never argue again. Sometimes people don't see eye-to-eye, they don't agree, and it gets hard to talk about it without getting angry, but that doesn't mean that we don't love each other. Your mother and I love each other very much, and we love you just as much, understand?"

He looked over at you, Bella, to see if you agreed, and you were right next to him smiling and nodding, tears streaking your face.

"Yeah," Masen said.

That was an evening neither of us will ever forget. I bet you can feel the goose bumps over your body and the closing up of your throat as you read this, just as I feel now, writing it.

Bella, you were so grateful to me because I never blamed you for Masen's disappearance, but in my eyes, you were my hero for finding him, and we were at last able to gain some perspective. We spoke that night, on Masen's bedroom floor as he slept on my lap, of how we'd spent too much time faulting each other for the expenses we couldn't pay, and I agreed to ask my father to help get us through a couple of months. In the end, Bella, losing electricity, losing our apartment, water, none of it would have been worse than losing our son. We remembered what it was like to feel fortunate we had each other and Masen in our lives. Our eyes were opened. We could see each other again, and when we went back to our room, we made love that night in a way we hadn't in a very long time, and there was no worry or blame - it was all peace and thankfulness. It was us, our love, as it always had been and always should be.

Those missing Masen moments were the darkest black, not knowing if we'd find him, or if he was found if he'd be okay, or if we were facing the possibility of never seeing our son again. But the relief of having Masen back lasted for weeks, months, well, in actuality years, because I still feel it now. We've made it through life with our son, and soon we'll see him walk across the stage. We'll be at his high school graduation just as he was at ours.

I kissed his head as he lay against me in his bed, and let myself fall asleep, dreaming of our family. You, Masen, Marie, and me.

I only had to lie with Masen for three days before he was able to sleep in his own bed, giving up his closet as sleeping quarters for good. It was a big step for him, but it was an eye-opener for me, because our little guy was really growing up. So fast.

Take us back to our poorest days, and even back then we would have agreed that there's one thing in life that slips through our fingers faster than money, and that's time. Time can move so fast it leaves skid marks when we finally stop and take a moment to study where we are. And then that moment's already past. With every new second, the last second is gone. Time is a string of twine rolling itself up, and never unrolling, or slowing. Even so, while it can be a worst enemy, time is also a best friend. As intangible as it is, it's all we really have, and it's constantly pulling away from us. It's both relished and embraced while its loss is lamented over.

Looking at Masen at fifteen, I could close my eyes and see him at seven, or four, or even two hours old as if it was only minutes ago. My eyes blink open and he's fifteen again, the age he began to rebel. He yelled at us whenever we asked him about his grades, which were dropping, and he seemed not to care. Academics were never as important to him as they were to us. If he went to college, he told me, it would only be because of sports. He hadn't just told me that, though, he'd spat it at me like I was someone to be put in his place, that proper place being the bottom of a shoe. What could I say to that? What could any father say? You and I know more than anyone that you can't force your kid into doing something he doesn't want to do. We also know how that feels. College was college, and if his only reason for attending was so that he could play sports, so be it.

All I could do was remind him that he'd have to keep his grades up to get into college, even if it was only so he could play sports. And when that didn't work, we took away his video games until his grades improved.

What a surprise it was when Masen turned from piano to sports. He'd shown early promise in both baseball and piano, but piano always seemed the obvious avenue he'd take. But no, looking back, it shouldn't have been so obvious. What was obvious was that he had talent: he could read notes better than I could, and he had just enough interest to continue studying with me, but that was it. He'd meet with me for lessons without ever a complaint, but he'd never play on his own. He wasn't drawn to the piano like I was. I see the notes as colors, and in color, hear music. Masen isn't like that at all. In fact, as we played together, or as I instructed him, he often changed the subject.

It occurs to me now how he had preferred to talk about his falling grades than piano. That should have been a sign right there. In between a classical piece and "Take Me Out to the Ballgame," he told me of his biology grade dropping from an A- to a C-. When good grades always came easily to one, it's difficult to understand how anyone could get a C- in something as "simple" as biology. My first inclination and accusation was that he hadn't been working to his potential. Had he been failing to turn in his homework or study for tests?

"I do my homework. I'm just not as smart as you."

That statement had me taking a step back. I'd never thought of myself as smarter than anyone else. School was easy for me, and when it proved more difficult in college, I simply worked harder at it. But it wasn't until my son compared his intelligence to mine that I realized what I'd taken for granted my whole life - the ease of school and my desire to do well. Had the fact that schoolwork and studying didn't come second nature to him somehow shaken Masen's confidence in his intelligence?

"Do you think you need a tutor?" I asked in my own way of dealing with the problem - fixing it.

"C's are average. I'm not failing."

"No, I didn't say you were failing. But a C-minus that's, you know, that's pushing it. One more poor test grade and you're down to a D."

He didn't answer, his fingers attacking the piano again, playing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" hard and angrily. Before the song ended, he stopped it abruptly and stood up. "I'm not getting a tutor and I won't get a fucking D."

He took off toward the door, stopping at the hallway closet.

"Masen!"

"I know, I know, watch my language."

He pulled his glove and bat from the closet.

"Where are you going?"

"What does it look like? You're a genius. Figure it out."

I let him escape from the house, and I sat down to play the piano myself. As I released my tension and anger out through the piano, he went to do it through sports, and it never occurred to me then, that difference between us: Baseball was to him what piano was to me. I get it now.

So look at what this has done for me, writing my memories out. I'm far from a genius, I'd like to go back and tell that angry or hurt Masen. It took me years to understand my own son. I was a scholar and he wasn't, and didn't care to be. I was a pianist by nature; he was a ballplayer by nature, and both were okay.

Remember how thrilled Phil was to see Masen's gift for baseball? He gave him any pointers he could come up with, and Masen inhaled them like air after a day's swim underwater. Just because Phil had long since retired didn't mean he'd lost all connections. Ten-year-old Masen and I left you and Marie for a weekend to meet Phil down in Arizona for Spring Training. Masen got to see the two Bay Area teams play against each other, and he even met a few of his favorite players. His eyes were the size of baseballs, and I understood that saying "stars in his eyes" because he had them. They're real, and to see those stars in a son's eyes… how many fathers get that experience? His baseball was covered in autographs by the end of our trip. Phil had given Masen an acrylic case for his ball, and Masen set it on the shelf over his bed. I noticed it kept moving, as if Masen would take it and check it out every once in a while, placing it in a different spot each time, a better spot, a clearer view of it, depending on where one stood in his room.

Not long after that, poor Masen was more than disappointed at the next San Francisco game we attended, sitting in front row, box-seats, uneaten nachos cooling in my lap. Those players he'd met during Spring Training didn't remember him, and Masen slouched in his seat with a long face and folded arms after he'd yelled and called to the players, waving a sign he'd made the night before.

"It's been four months," I told him. "They've met hundreds of kids between April and now."

"But I'm Phil's grandkid, their friend's grandson. They should remember a friend's grandson."

"I bet you they've met dozens of grandsons, sons, nephews, and brothers. Unless the kid is in their own family, I bet all other kids look alike to them. Maybe after you meet them a few more times… but Mase, think about this: a lot of kids never meet a ballplayer, and Phil? There were kids hounding him for autographs a few years back, and he's your family. How great is that?"

"Maybe I got my skills from him," he said.

I didn't have the heart to tell him of that impossibility.

"Oh," he said, getting it anyway.

"Buddy, your talent is all yours. Own it, be proud, and watch the game. You wouldn't want to miss a homerun, would you?"

Phil continued to get us those box-seat tickets, and he continued to school Masen in ball as best he could from afar, and it was Phil, much to our shock, who convinced Masen of the importance of having a backup plan. He explained to Masen that being the best ballplayer in your high school, or even your college, was no guarantee into the major leagues. For many a player, he'd told Mase, baseball would always remain a favored hobby, and a dream unrealized. And just last year, at seventeen, Masen announced that if it turned out he couldn't get anywhere in baseball, he'd design video games, sports games.

"There's a big demand for that, Dad. It's a multi-billion dollar a year industry," he'd said with enthusiasm, having already done the research.

I agreed with him, reminding him that he already lived in the perfect location for an opportunity in video game design.

Together we toured potential colleges that offered graphics programs, and even programs specific to video game design. It was amazing to see this one-eighty in him, from thinking of college only as a means to play sports, to seeing it as something it could do for his future - a new dream unfolding.

As we toured your alma mater, I noticed what struck Masen more than the campus, or the course offerings, were the girls. They took his attention away, his head turning, his neck straining, sometimes his eyes widening, his eyebrows lifting. It made me laugh to see yet another difference between my son and myself. Girls, other than you, Bella, were the last thing on my mind when it came to college decisions.

"Like what you see?" I asked.

"Legs, Dad, did you see her legs?"

"I meant the campus." I gave him a smirk because he knew I'd set him up for that.

...

A phone call interrupts me, uprooting my mind reluctantly from the soil of my memories and back into my office, the computer in front of me, the window to my right, the light flashing a call on the phone. My assistant answers it and the red light stops blinking. I see that I only have an hour left before the workday ends. I scrawl across the page all the memories I can fit in before I go home and give the letter to Bella.

It's after midnight when I offer her the letter in our bedroom, holding off until the latest possible moment, allowing myself time to scribble out last minute details. I wait until she asks me for it.

"Why did you want this?" I ask, handing over the several pages of my memories, folded together. She'd told me when she requested my memories on paper that she'd let me know what it was all about once I finished. "I tried to be as specific as you asked me to be."

She opens them and begins reading immediately. I find myself suddenly self-conscious about it all, and almost take the letter back. The feeling is like having someone poke around in the most private passages of my brain, just strolling through my limbic system. Even if it is Bella, who I'd tell anything to, I feel overly-exposed, though she's not even looking at me.

"It's for a memory book I'm putting together for Masen's graduation. A gift for him."

I laugh.

"What?" She looks up, eyes narrowing. "You don't think it's a good idea?"

"I think it's a great idea, love, but you're going to have to do some major editing there."

She shakes her head. "No, I planned on that. I wanted as much as you'd give me, no censoring. I'll type them out into little blurbs that go with the pictures I include, or his age at the time. Masen'll get the best ones for him and I'll get the rest."

She smiles and turns her attention back to the letter, finding her way to the edge of the bed. I sit beside her, silently waiting as she reads. I watch Bella, her expression changing - sometimes a smile or a slight frown, sometimes a finger to her mouth, biting her nail, or her hand at her heart; sometimes a few tears get away from her; sometimes a laugh. On her next smile, I kiss the corner of her eye where faint lines appear, defining, accentuating her happiness. Her hand meets my face and rubs along my jaw.

"Oh my god, I remember this," she says. "It's without question the cutest and sexiest thing I've ever seen."

"What is?" I peer over her shoulder at the letter.

"Here," she says, pointing. "Marie's dance performance."

I laugh, remembering it all over again too.

That had been the first official moment that Masen was embarrassed of me. The Saturday of Marie's first ballet performance, Bella had a fundraiser to attend for her seventh grade class. There was no getting out of it. She'd helped organize it and the date had been set months earlier.

"You want me to what?" I'd asked, facing Bella on the sofa in our living room. Marie was playing with puppets on the floor, making them jump or dance and talk with squeaky voices, but her wolf's growl was low and deep, and didn't seem to come from her.

"Just take Masen with you when you drop Marie off backstage. All you'll have to do is her hair and a little makeup. I know it's ridiculous, but the dance teacher wants all the girls in makeup. They're supposed to be butterflies, so a little circle of blush on the apples of her cheeks, some pink lipstick, and some sparkles. Oh, and her hair up in a bun. I'll be there as soon as I can, but I just don't see myself getting there in time to get her ready. You can do this for Marie, can't you, Edward? Your little butterfly?" She leaned forward and brushed her blinking eyelashes over my face.

"Tricky," I said, raising my eyebrows. "My little butterfly? Okay, lipstick and cheek-apples I can do, but how do you make a bun?"

"Not cheek-apples," Bella said, laughing, bringing Marie over. "The apples of her cheeks." She pointed and Marie smiled big, emphasizing them. "I can just imagine you drawing apples on her cheeks. I swear." Bella started demonstrating a bun, brushing Marie's hair up with her fingers, and then she did some twisting, and it seemed to move itself right into a bun on its own. I could do that.

"I want a apple," Marie said. She waved her wolf at me, and made him growl. I growled back, and her wolf cried high-pitched dog squeals. I patted the wolf's head, and he nudged my face, which I believe was meant to be a lick even if it was more of a punch, the way Marie shoved her hand at me.

"We don't have any," Bella said, and then to me: "Remember to get it a little wet to make it easier to keep the hair together. I'll pack up a spray bottle for you. Your hair's so baby-soft," she said, and gave Marie a kiss on her cheek - the apple of it. "How about strawberries?"

Bella released our daughter's hair, heading to the kitchen for Marie's strawberries. The bun was gone, Marie's curls falling to her shoulders.

"Here," Marie said, tossing the wolf at me. "You have some apolpo-apola-gizing to do. You scared Wolfy."

I picked up her wolf and brought his black nose to mine. "I'm very sorry for growling and scaring you..." I glanced at Marie, "Wolfy."

"Kiss him."

"Kiss the wolf?"

"You made him cry."

"But he growled first."

She cocked her head at me, and drew her words out like a song, "He's gonna cry again..."

I kissed her wolf before he cried, and then I grabbed for Marie, who tried to get away from me. I pulled her struggling and giggling to my lap, giving her face kiss after kiss. "Sorry I made your Wolfy cry, doll."

"It's okay, daddy. You didn't mean it." She reached up to touch my face and my smile was uncontainable.

Marie's bun had proved harder than it looked, and backstage, I attempted to employ eleven-year-old Masen to help me.

"Aw, Dad." He glanced around the room, filled with practicing or stretching ballerinas of all ages, some his age. "I'm not a beauty-worker."

"And I am?" I asked, fumbling with hair that kept falling from my too big hands. "Just hold this up here," I said, trying to get him to keep the hair in place while I wrapped a band around it, but the trade-off didn't work. All the hair tumbled from Masen's hand, and he was absolutely fine with that.

"See? It's not working anyway. Just let me play my game, and you figure this out. You're the dad."

"Can't you do it, Daddy?" Marie asked, turning toward me with those round brown eyes of hers, as round as her little face. Both my kids at once had reminded me that I was the dad - one in a sweet, squeakish voice, the other in a low voice of disdain. I was the dad, and like all dads, I should be able to do anything. That was the myth I held my father to - he could do anything and knew everything. I went to him, panicked and desperate, to ask for his help the night Renee had announced she was taking Bella back to Florida with her. And my father sustained this fatherly illusion by knowing exactly what to do. If Masen were to come to me at seventeen with that question, hours after announcing his girlfriend was pregnant, there'd be no pretending I had the answer. I'd have to let him down with an, "I don't know." Let him down, similar to the smaller, maybe minor, letdown that I'd have to render to Marie if I couldn't manage the bun.

"Sure I can, you butterfly, you. Now look straight ahead and I'll take charge of your hair." I scanned the room, all those girls with their perfectly coiled donuts on the top of their heads, and I started to sweat. "Okay, you know what, doll? We're going to start with the makeup, give your hair some time to calm down." I saw nothing wrong with pushing the blame off her daddy and on to her hair for now - keep up the ever-capable-father charade. Marie turned toward me as I pulled out the small pouch with the three things I needed. Lipstick first. But the tube thing, the edge of the lipstick stick was bigger than Marie's lips.

"How does Mommy do this?"

Marie pushed her lips out toward me like a fish and I poked at them with the pointed tip of the lipstick until they appeared pink enough.

"And I smack 'em," she said, folding her lips together, and when they appeared again, the lipstick looked not half-bad. I smiled and she waved her arms, the silk butterfly wings tied to her arms following.

The blush was easy. Just circles. I swirled the brush into the color, and then swirled it over Marie's cheeks. They did look somewhat like apples when I was done.

"This is the most adorable thing I've ever seen," I heard Bella say from behind me.

She kissed me, and I admit, I was feeling pretty proud, while at the same time probably about as relieved as Masen to be free of bun-duty. "You look beautiful, Marie. Look what Daddy did!"

"He can't do buns, Mommy. He tried to get Mase to do it."

And there it was. The disillusionment had already begun in the head of my littlest one, and I'd had no clue of it until then.

Masen looked up from his DS, or PSP, or whatever it had been back then, in a flash of fear, before he saw that his mother was taking control of Marie's hair, and that he definitely wouldn't be drafted as "beauty-worker." He fell back into the trance of his game.

"I was trying to get Masen to_ help_ me, not _do_ it," I said.

"Well, I'm here now," Bella said. She grabbed the spray bottle and started misting Marie's hair.

"How long were you standing behind me?" I asked.

"Since you took the lipstick out." She leaned closer and whispered, "Every mother in here had her eyes on you, did you know that? A sight like that? A daddy doting over his precious daughter? That's like a dream-come-true to most women. There was no way I was going to interrupt such a beautiful moment with your daughter."

"If it's so beautiful," I said, "I'll do the makeup every time. As long as you do the hair."

...

Bella must be sharing the same memory as me, because in our room, she lets the letter fall to the floor and starts kissing me. Attacking me in a way that says she's just seen _her_ dream come true.

Her tongue soft in my mouth has me attacking back. I stand up without breaking the kiss, taking her with me, pulling her shoulders until I'm satisfied with her closeness, her body breathing against mine. Groans are working their way through my throat and want to erupt from my mouth, so I move my lips to her neck, and quiet sounds are released from both of us. She's lifting my shirt, her hands on my stomach, and with a deep breath I take my shirt off, and her fingers follow up and over my chest to my shoulders and down my arms. Bella's shirt goes next, her bra swiftly following. We're on the bed now, and I'm drawing her on top of me, while she's tugging my shoulders toward her, and we're a mess of kisses as we're fighting for the one we want to be on top, until I relent, tired of the fight, just wanting to feel. I ease myself on top of her, open legs and a breath welcoming me.

"Edward," she sighs, and my pants are almost off before she finishes my name. I say her name too as I relieve her of her pants and underwear, my lips chasing the clothing down her hips and legs until I reach her ankles. She's squirming beneath me.

"Bella, so beautiful still," I say, and my lips are automatic in their ascent to her chest, her breast, her nipples. I love the way her head falls back immediately and the way she arches her back, pushing her breast at me as thought she wants me to take the whole thing into my mouth. But I know her better than that by now. She'd rather I use my tongue on her, swirling and flicking over her nipple, and nipping with my lips as my other hand attends to her other breast. Working them both at the same time has her whimpering as I know it will, and I'm more than ready for her, to fill her, but still, I hold back. I give her some caresses down her waist, my hand falling between her legs, and as I'm focused on the feel of her, the wetness she offers my fingers, hips rising toward me, she surprises me by taking me into her hand. Her fingertips are light, but her grip is firm, and my groan is the loudest yet.

"Bella…"

"I want you inside," she whispers as she's tugging me toward her, and I'm done for. I give her what she wants. I'd give her anything.

As I enter, her warmth surrounds me, holding tight, as if swallowing me, only to release me and then swallow me feeling is relentless, compelling me faster. I may be on top, I may be picking up my pace as we go, but she's the one in control. She has complete and utter control of the feeling consuming my body like rock music blaring through earbuds, and there's nothing else. I feel her shift, lifting her legs as she situates herself into the position where I'm rubbing her in just the right spot. Her hands at my back hold me close against her, and I'm so used to her doing that, that I know what she wants and I give it to her. Without slowing in speed, I lift up a little with every push into her, and I know she's feeling the friction she needs because she's the one moaning loudly now. I cover her mouth with kisses before she wakes the kids, because there's no way I'd shush her.

But I've had the friction I need since the start and I'm losing my control. "God, Bella," I say.

"It's okay," she says, letting me know she's ready for me to relinquish what little restraint I have left. She knows I'd wait as long as possible - that I'd hold out until she comes before me. I feel her speeding up below me,and I move faster and stronger. Then she's gone, and I let go too.

Her arms squeeze around my neck and my lips fall to hers. When we've caught our breath, she turns on her side, her back to me, and pulls my arm around her.

"Rest up. We're doing it again in a few minutes." She kisses the back of my hand and then rests her head against it.

I laugh and kiss her neck. "Wasn't that good enough for you, love?"

"I'm at my sexual peak, mister. You're just going to have to deal with it."

"Gladly," I say.

Later, as my wife of seventeen years allows me to relax into sleep, my brain is still working through memories. I drift off with eight-year-old Masen on my mind, sitting at the kitchen table, crayons surrounding him, crumpling up another sheet of paper and tossing it on the floor. "I can't do it."

"Do what?" I'm bouncing a restless Marie in my arms, patting her diaper.

"Draw a piano. Can you?"

I take a sheet and try my hand at it. While balancing Marie against my shoulder, I sketch out the rectangular shape, shading rough and fuzzy lines of keys. There was no depth to it, only the shape was there. Still, it made Masen happy. He copied it on to his paper, but without furry lines - he improved it. Next to the piano, he drew a stick-figure kid with big round hands holding a bat and a ball.

"Why are you drawing these?"

"For school. We're supposed to draw our hobbies. Teacher says hobbies are things we do for fun."

The memory fades away, or maybe it travels into my dream, and I fall asleep knowing that no matter what I'd thought earlier, even if piano was never a dream of Masen's, it hadn't been a chore either. It was something he'd seen as fun. A hobby.

And then I come to a new understanding of time. I was mistaken before. Time isn't all we have; we have memories, too, and they can be powerful enough to bring us backward in time and make the past stand still, even if momentarily. The same memory can continue to make us happy all over again, as often as we like.

If it's possible to sleep with a smile on one's face, I do it tonight.

* * *

**A/N**: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Masen's chapter will be posted soon. You can follow me on twitter now believeitornott (two t's at the end)

Reviews are always appreciated. :)

Thanks again to the wonderful Capricorn75!


	45. FutureTake Masen's Story

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

Here is a snapshot into Masen's mind for _Not Without You. _This was written for Capricorn75, who very graciously bid and donated $50 for an outtake offered in the Fandom Gives Back auction.

This story has made it to 2000 reviews, and for some reason that makes me happy, so thank you very much, readers, for getting me there. :)

Enjoy...

* * *

Not Without You

Masen's Story

I turned another stiff page and ran a finger over the glare of the protective sleeve. Photos were set at angles, cut with fancy scissors that left them with jagged or wavy edges. Typed out phrases, and sometimes paragraphs worth, of memories went along with each picture. I was in every photo - cheeks puffed out, blowing out five candles, most probably getting more spit than air on the cake; sitting on the sofa with a limp, slouching, snoozing, newborn Marie on my lap; positioning myself to bat at age eight - I recognized the corrections I would later make to my stance.

Still, the pictures that stood out the most were the candids my parents were captured in. If they were close enough, they were touching in some way, and when they were farther away from each other, they were, more times than not, shot looking at each other. Had my mom even noticed this as she was putting my past together? Or was she used to it? Was it as natural as having her hair on her head? "Look, there's my hair!" isn't typically something someone says when looking at her own picture. And I imagined that was the case with my mom and my dad. It was such a normal thing for them to touch or stare at each other that it must have been unnoticeable to the two of them unless pointed out.

I hated to blame my parents for my own relationship-malfunction, but I knew it was their fault. Not that they'd done it on purpose. It's the love they have that crosses and beats everything. It's like they were put on Earth for each other. They met, fell in love, the only real relationship either of them have ever had. Me? I'd had six different girlfriends in the span of six months, and I'd never been in love. Nobody cut it. Nobody treated me or looked at me the way my mom did my dad. I don't know what happened to me along the way, but I just wasn't like them, my parents.

They tried to have the sex talk with me a few years ago, and suggested in the way parents do, I guess, that I should abstain altogether. I understood why. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened with them. All it took was reaching an age old enough to understand basic addition and subtraction, and catching comments from other adults about how young my parents were, to recognize they'd had me when they were both eighteen, and that, in all rationale, I hadn't been a planned addition to their teenage-hood.

Still, that knowledge did nothing to make me abstain. I was a teenage guy in the twenty-first century, and there were girls in every classroom more than willing go to bed with the right - or wrong - guy. Some girls seemed to want it more than the guys. There were rumors of two girls who had lists they kept, a race or a competition over which of the two could have more sex with more people. I can state with certainty and great gratification that my name was not on one of their lists.

I hadn't given up, though, looking for _the_ girl. If I'd given up on that, I would have settled with Allison last month or Hayleigh the month before that. Maybe in college, maybe at Washington State. If nothing else, I was sure that through baseball I'd meet someone. Someone for whom - like my dad had done for my mom - I'd fumble through the kitchen to bake a birthday cake, disregarding the fact that I had no actual sense of the art of baking.

My dad had pulled me along for the ride, as he so often did.

"Mase!" he'd said, nudging my leg, too early on a Saturday. "Get up. Your mom just left with Rosalie and we have to get this cake done before lunch." He shook me again and I groaned. If I'd been younger, I'd have shot up and ran to the kitchen, excited by the magic that happened in there. Most days I'd walk in and it'd be empty and then an hour or two of my mother turning and swirling around with magic in her fingertips, or maybe she even had a wand, dinner would be all over the place. Steak, potatoes, gravy, salad, cornbread, dishes, silverware, glasses, all set up at the table as if there was a table button; you pressed it, and poof, there it all was. But at eleven years old there wasn't a huge desire to cook in the kitchen when I knew I was actually the cook and not a magician. Especially not in preference to sleep at eight o'clock in the morning.

"Get up," he said, this time in his firmest father voice, and he left the room. There'd be no more arguing and no five more minutes. I knew that voice too well. It was time to get up. I yawned and stretched and tossed my covers off.

In the kitchen, there did seem to be a little magic left as my dad revealed ingredients we needed from their habitats in the cupboards and refrigerator. All of them just right there when we needed them, presenting themselves to us, and all starting with a box. Dad handed the box to me.

"Read the back. What do we need?"

I read him off the four things: "Eggs, milk, butter, and a bowl." It actually stated "bowl" on the box, like without that bit of information, you'd fail to know what to use. But on a closer look, it didn't just state "bowl," it stated "6-qt bowl."

"What's a 6 quart bowl?" I asked. I didn't see bowls in terms of measurement, I saw them like normal people did: small and big, or even soup bowls and serving bowls.

"I don't know," my dad said, reaching into the refrigerator for the milk. "Check the bottom of the steel bowls in the lower cabinet. See if there's a 6 on one or something.

There were no numbers or letters, or anything, on the bottom of the steel bowls. I chose the one in the middle, because the large one looked way too huge. It could have probably fit a basketball ringed with baseballs in it.

"This one?" I asked.

"That'll do," my dad said.

"What can I do, boys?" Marie asked, sounding not much different than Minnie Mouse, and just as Minnie Mouse or some other cartoon character might have done, Marie drew out the word boys.

"Hey, doll," Dad said, and bent way down to give her a kiss. "Morning."

"You stay out of our way," I said.

"Nah," said Dad. "You can help stir." He patted her head and Marie closed her eyes with a grin, about ready to purr.

She pulled our mom's apron out of a drawer and draped it over her four-year-old naked body. I watched it swallow her whole. She was only wearing her underwear after just getting out of bed, but it seemed she worried about messing up her skin.

"Tie it, Mase," she said, lifting her hair off her neck, even though the tie went around the waist. To keep her from tripping over the ends of it, I gave the apron a few folds at her stomach and tied it up, wrapping the too-long strings around her three times.

"Make the bow in front," she said dropping her hair and turning toward me.

Once it was tied, she tiptoed around the kitchen with her arms outstretched, wrists flexed, and her head to the side, eyelashes flitting. The apron had become a gown to her and in her world, she was some sort of maiden or princess.

"Masen put a pea under me last night, Daddy." She stopped and spun in a circle, still on her toes, and wobbling.

It wasn't a rare thing for little Marie to live in a world of fairytale stories.

"Is that so?" Dad said. "Didn't you sleep well? Sounds an awful lot like that story we read last night."

Marie brought a finger to her lips.

"I heard you snoring," I said.

"Um…" she said, not yet equipped with the reasoning skills to surmise I may have made that up, just as she'd made up the pea. I helped her out.

"But you were also tossing and turning a lot. I heard it all the way in my room and it kept me up half the night."

"I knew it," she said, narrowing her eyes at me, angry about the imaginary pea. She opened another drawer to pull out a spoon.

"You have to wash your hands, first. Doesn't she, Dad?"

"That's right," he said, eyeing the back of the cake mix box, double or triple checking that we had the correct four ingredients.

I lifted Marie up so she could reach the sink and she whined that my arms were hurting her tummy.

"Just wash quick," I said, "before I drop you, _dolly_." I liked to tease her about that, and the fact that she didn't like it encouraged me to do it more. I felt her try to elbow me, but because of the way I was holding her, she could barely move.

"Daddy is nicer than you," she said, squirming away from me.

"Okay," Dad said, poking a finger toward the bowl. "Mix first, then eggs." He ripped the box open, and the nerves or anxiety this cake baking business was causing him confused me. He often helped my mom with dinner - _helped_, I realized then, being the operative word. She told him what to do most of the time.

"This can't be any harder than Stanford, Dad."

He laughed. "Buddy, the kitchen and I don't get along, especially under pressure. Go ahead, crack an egg over the bowl."

"I wanna crack an egg!" Marie said.

"You're too small," I said.

"Just let your sister crack one."

"She'll get eggshell in the mix."

That had him pausing, the threat of ruining the cake. "All right, all right." He pulled a soup bowl out, or maybe it was technically a half quart bowl, or a one pint bowl, or a sixteen ounce bowl - who even knows? - and set it in front of Marie. He brought a chair from the kitchen table over for her to stand on. "Here," he said, "I'll help you crack some eggs and we'll scramble them up for breakfast. Mase, you're okay stirring the batter?"

"Uh, yeah, I think I can manage. But Dad, it says to beat it. Do you think just stirring it is okay?"

"Shit," he said, then his eyes widened. "I mean, shoot, shoot. No, if it says beat, we should beat."

He opened cupboards in search of the beater, or the mixer, as he'd soon call it.

"What about my eggs, Daddy?"

"Give me a minute, doll. I need to find the mixer first. You just hang on, and don't fall off that chair."

"Be patient," I told Marie, and placed a hand on her back in case she did decide to fall off the chair.

Between the three of us, or more like despite the three of us, we'd been able to juggle the cake and breakfast without burning either. Marie had watched through the lit-up oven door, jumping with high fists of victory, as the mix in the pan had slowly but magically risen into a cake.

On my bed, my back against the wall, and still wearing my cap and gown, I turned another page of my memories. I don't know why, two hours after graduation, I hadn't changed. I guess I felt lucky to even be wearing that ugly red crap. I didn't want to take it off yet.

Marie let herself into my room without knocking, and I was ready to give her grief about it. My mouth was open: _Try that again with a knock first__,_ I would have said, before I saw her face.

Instead of the bright animation in her eyes that would typically be planted in some form of smug self-assuredness right on me, like she knew some secret I couldn't possibly know because she'd created it in her mind, she avoided eye contact with me and was examining my room as if seeing it for the first time, or as if she was searching for something. After she'd scanned the room two or three times, she scooted herself next to me on the bed, eyes remaining cast away from me. She smoothed her dress over her legs. It was the same dress she'd worn to her sixth grade dance a week earlier, and she was so proud of it, it didn't even matter that today was a special occasion. She'd been wearing the dress for at least a few hours each day anyway. Our mom had to force her out of it last night, so it could be washed for today.

"It's going to be weird not having you here," she said, leaving her dress alone and focusing in on some spot on the opposite wall.

I closed the scrapbook. "I'm not leaving until August."

"Still, you'll be gone. It'll be weird coming in here… even if your stuff's here, it'll be empty."

"Think of it this way. You won't have to knock anymore."

She turned toward me, but wasn't smiling. I'd made her mad.

"What? It was a joke."

"How can you do it? Leave us? Leave and be excited about it." Tears filled her eyes.

I didn't feel like explaining to her that because of my grades, my baseball ambitions, and my field of study, my California college choices had been limited. I was lucky with what I was offered in Washington, and I knew it. I also believed, but would never admit to anyone, that my high school ball-playing status was the only reason I was able to avoid community college.

"You've got it wrong, dolly." I was trying anything to get a smile out of her, but I kept making it worse. Her face fell further.

"Don't call me that." She shrugged my hand from her shoulder.

"So… you just plan on being mad at me for the rest of your life? Sounds like fun."

She didn't answer. She went over to my shelf and pulled the encased baseball down. Her hair was longer than it had ever been and when she tilted her head back to reach up, the ends touched the small of her back. She watched my face as she removed the ball from its case. I'd never let her do that before, but this time, I didn't stop her.

She turned the ball over in circles checking out the autographs. "You'll play baseball there, I guess."

"That's the plan."

"Will you steal bases?" She rubbed the ball in her hands without thought it seemed. I cringed.

"I'll try my best."

"Who's going to wash your uniform?"

I frowned at such a strange question - one I hadn't even thought about. The question made sense though, since with each stolen base attempt, my uniform ended up covered in dirt. "Guess I'll have to do it."

"Maybe we can all come and see you play."

"You hate coming to my games. You do nothing but complain about it."

She tossed the ball up and caught it. She was really testing me. I sat up straight, almost ordering her to put it away before she spoke.

"I like watching _you_ play. When you steal bases, or bat, or pitch. It's all the other players that are boring. Can I have this?" She tossed it a second time, and for the sake of her own safety, she caught it again.

"Marie, you can have anything you want… except that. The ball's coming with me."

"What if I take it and hide it?" She moved it behind her back. "If the ball stays, do you stay?"

Those tears were back. She no longer appeared eleven - she seemed more like five or six. Although, even back then she giggled and did her scissor-walk everywhere more than cried.

Her chin tightened, and dimpled, and shook. I stepped toward her, reached around her and took the ball. She let it go easily. I secured it in its case and replaced it on the shelf. Then I hugged her because I figured she needed it. Her head didn't even come up to my chest.

It took her a while to put her arms around me, and when she did, she was out and out crying. Good thing I didn't care if she got tears and snot on the red gown.

"I'm not going to miss you one bit," she said.

"I'm not going to miss you, either."

I tugged at the ends of her hair and she pulled away from me, swiping tears from her face. She was back to not looking at me.

Mom called for us to come downstairs; it was time to go to dinner. My parents had rented out a conference room at the back of an Italian restaurant for our friends and family. All of our grandparents from both sides of the family had been downstairs since the afternoon, directly after the graduation ceremony.

When Marie opened my door we could clearly hear Grandpa Charlie's guttural laugh.

Marie stood on the very tips of her toes and raised her hands in an oval over her head before she left. "I bet you I'll be en pointe before you steal your first base in college," she said without so much as a tremble in her stance or her voice. I knew that en pointe meant she'd be able to wear the certain toe shoes with ribbons that wrapped around her ankles and dancing on the point of her toes, because she'd been talking about it for years. I also knew that her teacher kept telling her she'd have to wait until she was thirteen to wear pointe shoes.

"You're on," I told her.

She gave me the first smile since she'd entered my room.

"Tell them I'll meet them outside," I said. I still had to change out of my cap and gown. "I'll drive Grandma and Grandpa Cullen, and you can ride with us." I tossed my keys to her. Unlike with the baseball, she dropped the keys.

On my way out, the house was quiet and empty. I passed by the piano, pressed a few keys, but then couldn't stop myself from playing a quick song. I stumbled over a few of the notes because the sheet music was buried in the bench I was sitting on. Marie used the piano the most, even more than our dad, and neither one of them needed sheet music.

Our dad had introduced Marie to the piano at a young age, just as he had with me, but she didn't start really going at it until she was eight or nine. Then her fingers flew like birds over the keys. Unable - and frustrated with trying - to read notes, she memorized all her songs.

She was very musically-inclined, which, I supposed, led to her dancing. She'd often record herself playing a song - last Christmas it was _The Nutcracker Suite_ - and made up a dance to go along with it. Often times while she danced for us, Dad would close his eyes and tilt his head, very obviously just listening to the music she'd played.

Dad bought her a trophy last year for "Song Memorization." It was right after my baseball ceremony where I'd received the big MVP trophy that hung out on the mantle in the living room. Marie had whined about not having a trophy, and next thing you knew, the doll had one sitting right next to mine.

"Masen?" My dad's voice startled me. I stopped and turned. "You didn't want to play earlier for your grandparents, but now you play?"

I shrugged. "Couldn't help it."

He wasn't mad; he smiled and raised his eyebrows, causing waves along his forehead. "I'm familiar with the feeling. Come on, though. You'll be late to your own party."

Grandma and Grandpa Cullen let Marie sit in front. When I turned over my shoulder to back the car out of the driveway, I saw them holding hands in the backseat.

They talked about how impressed they were with my driving, how I came to gradual, complete stops at stop signs, and then took off without gunning it - never jerking the car.

"Feel that?" Grandpa said. "Smooth."

It's amazing how little you have to do to impress grandparents as opposed to parents. Although, in all honesty, and from the grandparents' perspective - all six of them - managing to get through high school avoiding a pregnancy scare with a girlfriend would be pretty impressive in my family.

I'd shamefully used that on my dad to get myself out of trouble once. My grades were at their lowest and I'd been caught coming home drunk from a party.

"Where have you been?" my dad had asked.

"Nowhere."

"You're sixteen. You still need permission to go out. And you've been drinking!"

"At least I haven't gotten anyone pregnant," I'd said.

"That's looking at the bright side," my dad had said, rubbing his forehead, the look that had come over his face far worse than any punishment he might have come up with. "That's taking the focus off you, isn't it? Even if, in the process, you're disrespecting your mother and me."

I was too ashamed to even apologize, but I never said anything like that again - never wanted to see that look on my dad's face for the rest of my life.

"Look at him check his mirrors," Grandpa Carlisle said. "Your dad never drove like this at your age," he said, projecting his voice, maybe thinking I couldn't hear all he'd said before that.

Growing up, I was always told my hair was more like Grandpa Carlisle's than anyone else's in our family. I only saw the resemblance in pictures, because in all my memories, his hair was gray.

Marie and I spent many summer days in Forks with them. We'd stay with Grandma and Grandpa Cullen, but could visit Grandma and Grandpa Swan whenever we wanted.

I slept in my dad's old room, and that was one thing I always wished I could bring home with me: his room, view and all. Out every giant window were fir trees, branches almost touching the house, fascinating me with their symmetry. It was as if they weren't natural - the way the trees grew - but were shaped with purpose. What an enormous job that would be, to prune all those trees to grow to perfection. Out my one standard-sized window at home, the tree reached out like a deformed hand with too many thick and gnarled fingers. Those trees were better for climbing, of course, but for looking at, there was nothing better than the magnificence of a fir tree.

Trees marked our boundary lines at Grandma and Grandpa Cullen's.

"You may play outside," Grandma Esme would say, a finger sweeping her hair over her shoulder, "but you're not to go any farther than eight trees out on all sides of the house."

That wasn't an easy rule to follow when playing tag with someone seven years younger than you, who never bothered to count the trees.

"Marie," I had to yell. "That's the tenth tree!"

She laughed and kept running, but as I got closer she screamed, knowing I was faster and that she could never get away.

At Grandma and Grandpa Swan's our boundary lines were easier to determine. Stay on one side of the street, and don't leave our block. There wasn't as much to do there, so we played in the house most of the time. Marie liked to hang out in the room upstairs that once belonged to our mom before it belonged to Aunt Leah. She'd sit in the middle of the bed, sinking into the thick purple comforter, reading her books, or demanding that I read them to her.

"Do you have to have a special mattress too, like your mom?" Grandpa Charlie asked her when she was seven.

"What mattress?" she asked, pushing _The Gigantic Turnip_ off her lap.

"Your mom," he told us, "wasn't into the typical girl things like dolls or dresses, you know? But one thing she had to have was a soft pillow-like mattress. She was like a princess in that way."

If Marie's ears weren't already perked up like a dog's on a hunt, they most definitely were at the word princess. She got it in her head that she, too, needed a pillow-mattress, as she called it, and announced this news when we got home.

She got one. Mom said she completely understood and took Marie to pick out her own.

Mom had me help position the new addition on Marie's bed.

"Try it, Mase," Marie said, pulling me down with her. We both sank in low.

"It's too soft. You'll drown in this thing."

"You know, Marie," Mom said, joining us on the bed, "you'll have to take good care of this. Doesn't it feel good?"

Marie nodded.

"Well, it wants to look good too." She winked at me, and I didn't know right away what that gesture meant. That was, until Marie started making her own bed every morning. She'd smooth each layer with her little hands until it was just right, moving back and forth around the bed to pull the sheets and blanket snug. A tight fit was how Mom explained the mattress liked it best. Even now, the first thing Marie did when she woke up in the morning was make her bed. She made fun of me for being a slob and never making mine.

Although the morning of graduation, she'd made my bed for me as I was getting ready. "Family's coming," she said. "You never know if they might come up here."

So far, since they'd all arrived, no one had come up.

I followed my dad's car into the restaurant's back parking lot. As we climbed out of the cars, it was hot. Too hot for jackets, so none of us but Dad and Grandpa Carlisle in their suits wore one.

On our way out, it would be cooler with the sun down and the chilling bay wind. Marie would wear Dad's jacket and it would come all the way down to her calves.

We walked through a short cobble-stoned alleyway to get to the front of the restaurant, disturbing flies with our feet. I swatted them aside. They stayed behind with the stench of the dumpsters, not bothering to follow us to the big open courtyard at the restaurant's entrance. A Beatles cover band was playing out there, a white-haired, white-bearded man in a Hawaiian shirt on vocals, the perfect imitation of Paul McCartney.

Marie, whose mood had significantly changed, reached for the copper fountain at the right of the band, dipping her hand in the water streaming down from it and splashed at Mom and Dad. Her grin was devious. Instead of getting angry, even with Dad in his suit and tie, and Mom in her dress, they shoved their hands through the water and splashed her back. I stood behind with the old folks, shaking my head at the children, right along with them.

"I love this town," I heard my mom say as she looked around at the small crowd on benches, or their own collapsible chairs, and the two or three ladies who were swaying or bouncing, more than dancing, to the music.

We paraded down the thin aisle of tables following a girl in a short black skirt to the back of the restaurant. People coming our way had to stop and wait for Grandma Renee, at our tail end before they crossed.

I might have been the only one who had my eyes on the hostess' round rear end as she moved in front of us. Who knows what her face looked like. I'm sure she was pretty. Most girls in Palo Alto were pretty.

Three long chrome-topped tables were set up in a big squared "u" shape in the back room behind a curtain. I had to sit in the middle, as if I was giving some sort of presentation.

Alice, Jasper, and Sylvie arrived just after us, and Sylvie sat on the other side of me.

That was fine with me. She may have been Marie's age, but there was something about her; she was serene and she brought it with her wherever she went. I liked hanging out with her. Last year, she was visiting with her parents and I'd sliced my finger cutting up cheese squares for my mom. Sylvie just about panicked, but in the most calm way.

"Masen!" she had said. "You need a bandage." She'd ordered Marie to go after one while she took my hand and dragged me to the sink. She ran cool water over it. "That cut is deep. It must hurt."

"I'm all right," I said. "I'll live." I tried to pull my hand away, but she held tighter.

"Do you want an infection? Keep rinsing it." She also bandaged my finger for me as if I was the ten year old and she was my mother. "There." She kissed it. "All better."

I shook my head and laughed. "You're something else."

She'd wrinkled up her nose. "That's what my dad says."

Now, Sylvie sat beside me at the table asking me what I would order.

"Me too," she said, when my answer was lasagna.

"She always does that," Alice said, leaning over her daughter. "She'll ask everyone we're with what they're having and then choose from one of their choices. She never makes the decision all on her own. You should decide for yourself," she addressed Sylvie.

Sylvie gave a one-shouldered shrug. "There's too much to choose from. What are you getting, Dad?" she asked.

He answered with some vegetable pasta plate, and Sylvie shook her head; she wasn't having that. That, I thought was a decision all her own. But parents were like that, I'd learned. They figured something out about their kids and then they'd announce it like that was the one way the kid was and always would be. "He's such a picky eater," some say, or, "She's such a shy girl." Or even, "He's amazing at the piano. You should hear him. But he rarely wants to play."

They didn't mean anything by it, nothing negative. They were just announcing their own observations, but it still made me want to say: "Maybe you're wrong. Maybe it's a phase. Or maybe the kid is behaving that way because it's become what you expect. Give him room."

"Mimi," two baby voices screamed at the same time, one in Rosalie's arms, the other in Emmett's. They squirmed and kicked until they were let down, and ran over to Marie, hugging her and pulling at her hair. Then they noticed Sylvie and did the same thing.

Rosalie let out a deep sigh. They'd called to say they were running behind, but it hadn't been necessary; lateness was expected of them. They were always the last to arrive to anything.

Natalie and Christopher were both two, ten months apart in age, but they weren't biologically related. I'd heard over the years, in hushed whispers, of how sad it was that Rosalie couldn't get pregnant. They'd given up trying and opted for adoption. Hardly a blink after a baby girl was assigned to them, Rosalie got pregnant.

"Suddenly," I'd heard her whisper to my mom, her stomach pushing at her dress, "everyone knows someone who knows someone who's been through this same thing. They try and try, and as soon as they adopt, this happens." She'd gestured at her stomach, and blew up out of her lips, her breath lifting her hair. "Oh," she'd said, her voice shaking, "don't get me wrong. I'm happy, Bella. I'm really happy." She nodded through her words and a long time after as if she was explaining how happy she was to herself as well.

Rosalie and Emmett relaxed heavily into their chairs like they hadn't sat down for months, although they'd just come from their car. Everyone else around the table was pleased to take their babies off their hands for the next few hours.

"Grandpa Phil," I said. "Three Washington State players were picked for the draft this year."

"I know. I've started keeping up with it as soon as you decided where you were going." The server placed his plate in front of him, warning him it was hot. He ignored her warning and adjusted his plate on the table. "That's very promising for you," he said to me. "Just don't ruin it with drugs or anything."

That was Grandpa Phil, always thinking of any possible scenario to ruin a person's chance. He was the glass-is-half-empty kind of guy.

In the middle of dinner, and free of both of his children, Emmett leaned toward me from across the table and three seats down, to ask me about my interest in video game development. As I answered him, I was either actually teaching him something, or he allowed me to believe I was. He nodded and asked questions and I explained, hearing my own voice rising and my words quickening. Though I was deep into the explanation of my partnered idea of an online, interactive baseball game, I was still aware of the silence spanning all three tables, with the exception of Natalie and Christopher. Everyone's attention was on me.

"What would make your game different from what's already available?" Emmett asked.

I told him how people would make up their own team with their own players, each with strength and weaknesses. "There would be limitations to keep competition fair. But here's the real difference," I said, lowering my voice. "Every team begins with a base dollar amount, but you're able to earn money based on players' performances and team wins. Then, if you can afford it, you can make player trades with other gamers from around the world. You could end up with players created by many other people. You could also make or break your team that way."

Emmett smiled. "That sounds great, it really does. But is there a high demand for baseball video games?"

I frowned at him, genuinely confused by the question. I couldn't imagine why anyone would think there wouldn't be. My face burned, and frustration grew, until I remembered exactly who I was talking to. He was trying to wrestle me on my own video game creation. He'd never win. I shook my head at him, returning his smirk.

"I'd play it," Jasper said.

"So would I," said Emmett.

"Yeah right," Rosalie said. "When would you have time?"

"There's all that time I spend sleeping."

"When do you sleep?"

"Good point," he said, and pulled her in for a kiss.

I went back to eating.

When we left the restaurant it was dark out, and something about the night had all the couples pulling their arms around each other, even the grandparents, Grandpa Charlie and Grandma Sue in the lead. My dad draped his jacket over Marie's shoulders and she danced as she walked, up on her toes and then twirling around, watching her shadow cast below her by the streetlamps.

The music was still going on, the gathering crowd bigger now, and it was no longer The Beatles they were playing.

"James Taylor," Grandpa Charlie said. "He sounds exactly like him."

We all decided to go into the Baskin Robbins on the left side of the courtyard, and then eat our ice cream outside while listening to the music. All the benches were taken, so we stood. Marie was the only one who danced. She held the sides of Dad's jacket out as if it was some kind of cape.

"I heard you in there," Grandpa Charlie said to me, "talking about your game concept. I'm impressed. You have a mind like your father's."

I shook my head and gave him a look that said, _Who are you kidding?_

"I'm being honest. You both think outside the box when it comes to possibilities. Your thoughts and your father's thoughts may go in different directions, but that doesn't make them dissimilar in process." He nodded at me and I stopped shaking my head. I wanted to believe him. "Edward never seemed to doubt that he and Bella could take care of their family, no matter how young they were. Just like you don't doubt that you will really be _something_."

"Maybe you're right, Grandpa."

"I am."

We were interrupted by Marie, who was pulling on Grandma Renee's arms. "Come on," she was saying, attempting to get the least likely of our group - aside from Mom - to dance with her.

"Oh no, no." Grandma Renee was wiggling a skinny arm free from Marie's grasp.

"Just one spin," Marie said, lifting the one arm of Grandma's she still had a hold of, and turned beneath it. "Now your turn." Marie stood on her toes with both of their arms raised, and nudged Grandma's opposite shoulder, successfully getting her to spin.

Grandma's smile was big when she spun under her small granddaughter's lead. They both laughed and continued to take turns.

"She never stops dancing," I said to my mom and dad.

"Don't look at us," Mom said. "We gave up on trying to figure life's ideas out a long time ago."

Back when Marie was two, back when she could count to seven, but after seven came eleven, twelve, fourteen, sixteen, and then it was repeated: "leven, telve, furteen, sisteen," and repeated again. And each repetition was louder than the last until she was shouting it. Back then, she'd called me _her_ Masen.

"Where's my Masen?" she'd ask. "I want show my Masen my pet." Her pet was whichever stuffed animal she was holding at the time.

"I want my Masen hand," she'd said, and I gave it to her.

She'd started to hum and sing a song without real words, but what sounded like words, and she raised her leg up, forward and back, brushing her toes against the carpet.

"Are you singing?" I'd asked.

"No, I danceen." She'd stood on tiptoes. "Like a bal-ina."

"Oh, dancing."

"In my skirt," she had added even though she wore pants. "See?" She lifted her imaginary skirt as she danced. "I danceen in my skirt."

I was her Masen back then, and no matter what happened between then and now, how much I wanted to bug her for being so spoiled, or just get under her skin for no good reason at all, I knew in some area of my mind that in the end, I would do anything she asked, just like our parents did.

And because of that, I also must have known from the second she asked me that she'd end up with my baseball.

That night, as Marie slept in her room, and before I went to bed, I took the ball from my shelf. I stared at it for several minutes, remembering how I'd stood in the front of a crowd of kids on the hottest April day ever, not even having to shout at the players for an autograph because my grandpa knew many of them. I remembered how each player had talked to me as he signed my ball, asking me how I was, how I liked the game, or if my ole grandpa was taking good care of me.

I'd told Giants pitcher Cameron Stein that I wanted to be him.

He looked down at me, his hair under his ball cap wet with sweat. "Aim for your career like you're throwing a curve ball," he'd said. "Surprise life, kid, don't let life surprise you."

I'd gazed back at him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, in complete awe and complete confusion over his advice. It had flown over my head as fast as one of his ninty-mile-per-hour pitches, but his voice would be heard all over again each time I saw his signature on my ball. And then, when I was sixteen and Grandpa Phil had unknowingly crushed me with, not only the idea that I might not make it as a professional ballplayer, but also with his assumption that I wouldn't, suggesting I decide on a backup career, I finally found meaning in Mr. Stein's words. If life didn't allow me a career in baseball, I'd fight back, come up with something just as great, just as challenging. I'd invent my own baseball game - throw my own ball, let it curve.

Cameron Stein had taken the most time signing the ball, adding "Best of luck," before his signature. As I turned the ball over now to find his autograph, I felt I owed him my thanks.

The memory and the advice, the encouragement from my favorite player, would always be mine, but the ball wasn't mine anymore. I took it, case and all, brought it to Marie's room and laid it on her pillow. When she woke up, she'd find it there, and know that it was hers.

* * *

**Thank you for reading.**

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